


to the stars through adversity

by titaniaeli



Series: luke & his adventures [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Luke Castellan, Implied/Referenced Torture, Luke comes back to life, M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Other, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Regret, Resurrection, Self-Worth Issues, Sleep Deprivation, Slow Burn, Subtly Protective Hermes, Suicidal Thoughts, bisexual Luke Castellan, like fucking literally, more friendship than actual romance tho, the minor gods and goddesses are quite fond of Luke, this story got way out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-13 13:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 30,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12985500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titaniaeli/pseuds/titaniaeli
Summary: After Kronos’s latest attempt in reforming his body sent a massive earthquake throughout the Underworld, several souls managed to fall through the cracks formed into the living world—including one Luke Castellan.





	1. Chapter 1

Luke shivered back into consciousness, squinting tiredly up at the stars. His entire body _ached_ , as if he has been ripped apart over and over again. This was not that far from the truth, to be honest. Alertness slowly came back to him, his vision focusing on the blinking lights above him.

Wait, _stars_? The Underworld, especially the Fields of Punishment, has no stars. He rolled over, barely stifling his cry of pain.

“Steady, Son of Hermes.” A soft, unfamiliar voice murmured.

He stiffened, cursing himself for not noticing the extra presence when he first woke up. He felt a hand touched his shoulder and he backpedalled away in panic. The goddess was crouched beside him with a bemused expression, and there was no doubting she was anything but. Her fair skin seemed to glow softly, illuminating her dark eyes and plush pink lips. Her hair fell in ringlets of raven over her bare shoulders. She was dressed in a sheer white chiton, golden bangles glinting at her wrists. Strangely enough, she has a shield on her back and a sword on her hip.

“Who are you? Where am I?” He demanded, looking around wildly. He stared up at the night sky, and at the trees that surrounded him. “I’m not in the Underworld.”

“No, you’re not.” The goddess smiled. “I am Adrestia, goddess of equilibrium and just retribution. I am the handmaiden of Lady Nemesis.”

“What happened?” He asked rudely. He doesn’t care if she’s Hera herself. He can’t say he has much of a good experience with gods and titans, and he’s weary of them.

“Kronos.” Adrestia answered simply. “He tried to reform his body once more, and his latest attempt caused an earthquake in the Underworld.”

The name sent a shudder down his spine. His blood seemed to ice in his veins, fear seizing his heart.

“Be at peace. He failed.” The goddess assured. “But his attempt caused many cracks in the dimension. Many souls fell through and Lord Hades is working overtime to retrieve them back.”

“And I’m one of them?” He rasped.

A secretive smile graced her otherworldly face. She rested her hands on her lap, looking irritatingly serene and impervious to his inner panicking.

“You are.” She acknowledged. “But I got to you first.”

Suspicion started to creep in. He narrowed his eyes at her, hating the feeling of helplessness. He has no weapon to defend himself, and his ‘punishment’ has left him weak and useless.

“Lady Nemesis owes you a debt, as do I. You fought for recognition for us minor gods, spared our children from the Fields of Punishment and gave up your chance for Elysium.” Adrestia said.

A rattling breath passed his throat at the reminder.

“Debts demand its due. And penance requires a balance.” She continued. “I will shield your scent from monsters and your presence from the gods.” At his confusion, she chuckled. “You should savour your second chance, Hero of the Great Prophecy.”

She waved a delicate hand at him, mist swirling to life. He couldn’t avoid the unfurling mist even if he wanted to. They burst in his face and his world went dark.

* * *

He woke up beside, of all places, a trash bin. If that wasn’t a metaphor of his life, he doesn’t know what it is. He’s clad in the last clothes he was wearing at his death, and the sight of it was an unpleasant reminder of Kronos.

He stood up unsteadily, vertigo threatening to throw him off his feet. Nausea churned in his stomach, and he closed his eyes tightly to stave off the urge to vomit. He patted down his body; dread a deep, dark pit in his belly. As he had feared, he has no money and no phone on him.

Adrestia might have meant well _(hopefully)_ , but she has no idea how hard it is to live in the normal world with nothing.

He was a homeless runaway once, but he had been a child. And he had Thalia. Now he’s alone, an adult and a claimed demigod lost in the mortal world. Contrary to popular belief, it was easier to be a child. He was far smaller and lighter to sneak around stealing necessities back then.

Now if he’s caught stealing, he’d be sent to jail immediately.

Luke tried to massage back the headache pounding behind his eyes. For a moment, he wondered if it’s better if he’s still dead.

As he limped out of the alleyway, his mind drifted to Thalia, Annabeth, Percy and his siblings... He shook his head violently. Even if he yearned to see them again, they might not be happy to see him.

He _only_ tried to destroy the world after all.

First thing first, figured out the date and where exactly he is, and then maybe he’ll determine what to do next.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hurry up, Luke!” Harry shouted, glaring at him from the counter.

He capped the steaming espresso and yelled out the name written at the side. Without waiting for an answer, he turned back to the coffee machine and started on the next order.

The first few weeks had been a struggle. Adrestia’s protection had helped greatly though. He hasn’t seen hide or hair from a single monster since his revival. At least his issues do not include fending off monsters.

He did manage to find a place to stay... _eventually._ The first few days had been spent on the streets, shivering in the cold autumn air with just a shirt and a stolen jacket. At least his pickpocketing skills had not gone rusty yet. After saving (read: stealing) enough cash, he managed to find a place and a landlord generous—or perhaps, unconcerned enough to turn a blind eye to the ragged-looking vagrant that had called to inquire on the ad posted in the newspapers.  

He definitely slept in cleaner spots, but he couldn’t complain with a roof over his head.

His landlord had directed him to a small coffee shop in need of people, and despite the lack of a social security number and such that identified him as a citizen of the United States, his boss had been desperate enough to hire him on the spot. The hours were long, but at least the pay was decent.

And at least he was being paid in cash.

He counted himself lucky enough to get a place and job quickly. After betraying his home, his family, his friends... nearly destroyed Olympus, nearly revived Kronos, it seemed almost surreal that he got to live again when Silena, Ethan and all the demigods that had followed him on this mad crusade remained dead.

“Hey, can you cover me for five minutes?” Harry asked, peering over during a lull. He waved a cigarette box at him. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah, sure.” Luke replied, wiping his hands on a rag.

The rush hour had finally quieted down and there’s no customers at the moment. He took the moment to count through the money.

If there was one thing his boss found particularly useful, it was his ability managing the money. As a Son of Hermes, it came with the territory. It started with the cash flow at the end of the day, and slowly Luke found the task of monthly budgeting being shoved to him. Which he did not really mind. It kept his mind off Kronos and Camp Half-Blood.

“Hey, one mocha frappucino please.”

“Size?” He asked, keying in the order into the cashier. He subtly studied the young man in front of him, a habit he could not quite shake off. Every man or woman who entered, he studied for signs of a demigod or monster in disguise.

“Medium.” The young man said.

“That would be $4.” He murmured.

Did he ever think that he would have a life in the normal world, far away from monsters and quests? Even before his anger at Hermes consumed him, he always thought that he would die on a quest.

“Thank you,” The young man handed over the exact amount, his gaze narrowed at his name tag. “Luke.”

He blinked and stared at his customer. There was a strange emphasis on his name, a particular intonation that coloured his cheeks.

He was perhaps just an inch taller than Luke, with carefully tousled auburn hair and soft dark blue eyes—eyes that were weirdly intense.

“Name?” He cleared his throat, marker poised as he held an empty paper cup.

“Avon.” The customer said smoothly. “A-V-O-N.”

Luke was not usually a man easily flustered, but the way the other man was staring at him? It looked like he wanted to devour him alive.

“I’ll be ready with your order shortly.” He said, eager to leave the customer’s sight.

The other man gave him a charming grin as he walked off. He eyed this Avon in his peripheral vision. Human, definitely. Probably.

But really, what was that?


	3. Chapter 3

_“You’re mine, little half-god.” Kronos was bodiless, a fog of darkness wrapped around his body. His voice was a dangerous purr. His mere presence alone freezes his entire body, the velvet sneer wrapping around his heart, squeezing, choking. There were hands around his throat. He can’t breathe. He can’t scream for help. He can’t even move, much less run._

_“You’re mine. Mine to use, mine to kill. There’s no escape for you, Luke Castellan.” Kronos said, his voice deepening into a deep hiss. “You can hide, but you will never escape me, you tra **itor!”**_

 

He knew it wasn’t going to be a good day when he woke up screaming soundlessly and crying like a baby and it was only 3.45am in the morning when he glanced at his clock.

His whole body was shaking like a leaf, his shirt plastered onto his skin as cold sweat soaked his clothes. It’s like he could physically feel Kronos’s presence, his hands, his lips against his ear, hissing and threatening.

He rolled out of the bed and ran for the bathroom. The moment he reached his sink, he vomited.

 _He can’t reach you here,_ he thought, _he’s imprisoned in Tartarus._

But that’s what the gods thought as well, wasn’t it?

He knew he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore, so he readied himself for the day. He’s on the morning shift, so he might as well start his day early.

* * *

It really wasn’t a good day. If he had known, he should have stayed in bed that morning. Although the thought of staying in his stifling, cramped apartment alone with the ghosts in the corner of his head felt nauseating, at least he has some peace and quiet.

His partner had fallen sick, leaving him alone in the morning. The morning Monday crowd refused him even a minute breather, and he was reprimanded by at least five annoyed customers within an hour for some idiotic reason or another, he accidentally pulled too hard when opening a new carton of whipped cream and gotten them all over his shirt. By the time 8am rolled by, he was exhausted, physically _and_ mentally. Coupled by his lack of sleep this morning, he was close to dozing off while standing.

So when the earthquake came, he wasn’t completely surprised. It’s almost perfect, how it added to the shitstorm this morning.

 _This is Maine, for fuck’s sake._ A mug fell off the counter and shattered upon impact on the ground.

There was a couple of panicked screams as the customers dove under the tables. He faced down a pair of leucrotae intend on eating him, battled Cyclops and hellhounds and Furies, survived Ladon and shared a body with the titan king. He was perhaps far too calm as he grabbed the counter for support.

Up till a wave of chill washed over him. His knees buckled and he fell, his eyes wide with shock at the too _familiar_ raw coldness that had overtaken his senses.

_“There’s no escape for you, Luke Castellan.”_

“No.” He choked, clawing for stability. He vaguely registered that he was entering into hysterical shock.

He didn’t even realize the shaking had stopped.

“Hey, Luke?” Avon’s head popped over the counter, his dark eyes narrowed in worry. When he spotted him sitting dazedly on the floor, his entire body trembling violently, he leaped over the counter in a flash. “You’re hurt!”

Avon immediately heaved him up, half-dragging, half-carrying him towards the sink to wash cold water over his scalded arm. Evidently, the earthquake had knocked the kettle of boiling water over him when he collapsed.

“Are you okay?” Avon demanded.

The blonde stared at him in surprise, blinking rapidly. Avon was starting to feel concerned when Luke did not seem to register the pain. He swiftly got to his feet and went dashing into the kitchen, yelling for help from the other staffs.

Luke blinked at his departure, his mind still reeling. It felt like he would stay permanently cold, like the chill had sank right through to his bones and refused to leave.

 _Kronos,_ it was his last thought before he gave in to the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

“You didn’t have to stay.” Luke frowned when he stepped out of the hospital and spotted Avon lingering outside. The doctor had been quick to kick him out to make way for other patients once he realized Luke has no insurance.

At least he had bandaged his arm before booting him out. Luke could already feel the headache forming at the thought of his medical bills.

“It’s only right.” Avon shrugged. “I don’t feel good if I don’t at least make sure you get home safely.”

He gave the auburn-haired man an awkward look. He still couldn’t figure out the man’s motives.

He stared at Luke every time he dropped by the shop, brought him to the hospital, waited for him until he’s done and now he’s offering to take him home.

But he’s going to reserve his judgement, until he’s completely sure of Avon’s intentions anyway. He’s a normal mortal now, so he’s going to act like one, not go off paranoid and swinging swords at the poor guy’s face just because he’s suspicious.

“It’s not necessary. I can get home on my own.” He said shortly.

“Do you have a ride back?” Avon challenged.

He scowled at the other man in irritation. His place was five blocks away, but he’s close to passing out from exhaustion and pain—which, _yes_ , he’s starting to feel now that the adrenaline was gone. And he has no money to flag a taxi. Walking that distance felt like an insurmountable task all of a sudden.

Avon took his silence as acquiescence, smirking victoriously. He wrestled down the urge to knock that shitty smug grin off that pretty face.

Argh, now he’s just deluded.

“Come on,” Avon gestured to his motorcycle. “Get on.”

Luke exhaled slowly, searching for that near non-existent calm that’s hiding in some corner of his head. Bracing himself, he swung his leg over the seat and placed his hands on Avon’s hips in embarrassment.

* * *

“You sure you’re going to be alright?” Avon asked, for what was probably the fourth time since Luke got off the motorcycle.

“You just want to come inside my apartment.” He said accusingly.

Avon shrugged flippantly, smirking playfully as he stuck his hands into his pockets.

“I’m just a concerned friend.” He replied. “Wouldn’t want you to faint in your exhaustion and have another cut on your face.”

Luke stiffened and gave the other man an irritated glare. He’s not usually that self-conscious about his scar, and he admitted that sometimes he forgot that facial scars in the mortal world was not usually a common sight.

“We’re not friends.” He said slowly. “And I’m not going to faint.” _Again._

The only response was a fond smirk from the auburn-haired man. Which was oddly disconcerting. Avon was a disconcerting man.

Hades, he doesn’t even know the man’s last name.

“If there’s nothing else, I’m heading inside.” He said, giving Avon a pointed look. He spun on his heel and make his way up the stairs.

“Wait, Luke!” Avon called out abruptly.

He turned around with a raised brow. For the first time since he met Avon, the guy looked nervous, shuffling his feet.

“I was thinking... shall we have coffee together when you’re available? Not—Not at your coffee shop. Perhaps some other café.” Avon stammered.

Holy Hera, was Avon asking him out on a date?

His mind went blank as he searched desperately for an answer. Was this why the guy kept hanging around during his shifts? Now he felt like an idiot. _Was he even gay?_ Fuck, he can’t be gay if he likes girls, right? Although the only person in the world he has ever hold any semblance of feelings for decided to join a group that have sworn off men and remained permanently sixteen. And would most probably stab him in the gut with her spear if he ever turns up in front of her again.

Being a demigod was a serious hindrance to his dating life.

But he’s not just a demigod now, isn’t he? He’s a demigod who had gained a second chance at life, who was pretending to be just a _normal_ guy.

“Y—Yeah, okay.” He cursed himself for stuttering, but he was rewarded by a brilliant smile that quite frankly managed to temporarily dazzle him.

“Great.” Avon said excitedly, bounding up the stairs towards him. “Give me your phone.”

“I... I don’t have one.” He said uneasily.

Fortunately, Avon didn’t find anything strange about his lack of phone. “That’s okay. Give me your hand.”

He warily extended his uninjured hand towards Avon, resisting the urge to flinch when the brunette grabbed his wrist and pushed back his sleeve. Digging out a pen from his pocket, Avon leaned over and started writing on his forearm.

“What in Had—hell are you doing?” Luke frowned. Up close, Avon smelled faintly of ink and earthy water.

It’s not possible for water to smell earthy, but it just was. It was an odd combination, but it was the strong scent that piqued Luke’s interest and set off a tiny alarm in his head.

 _Maybe just a strong cologne_ , he mused. Far too quickly, Avon was done and stepping away.

“Your coffee shop has a phone, right?” Avon asked, looking a little skittish. “You can call me when you get back to work.”

“I... alright.” He agreed, slightly dumbfounded.

Three months ago, he was dead, being tortured in the Fields of Punishment and never knowing when the pain would end. It’s a little bizarre now that he’s standing downstairs his shitty rented apartment and being asked out on a date by a mortal boy.

“See you soon!” Avon exclaimed, waving as he got on his motorcycle.

Luke shook his head in bemusement as he watched the other man rode off. It has been a really strange, tiring day. Plus, there’s the earthquake and Kronos’s chilling presence that he had sensed back then.

Perhaps, a nap first.


	5. Chapter 5

_“What... What will happen to Ethan Nakamura?” He asked, shrinking back as three pairs of eyes swivelled towards him. Mustering up his courage, even though Minos creeped him out, he met their intense stares unflinchingly. “Or Silena Beauregard?”_

Or even those other poor kids who had died senselessly _, he did not continue. Kids who probably didn’t even know what they were giving up when they chose to fight for the Titans._

_“Their fates have already been determined.” Thomas Jefferson said idly. “We will come to a judgement regarding you, Luke Castellan.”_

_“No,” He said firmly, the decision to do what he must coming easily. He might have promised Annabeth that he’d try for Isles of the Blest and choose to rebirth, but he could not easily forgive his own crimes. He had hurt his family, his friends, the people he loved, dragged in innocents into a war. “Ethan and Silena... wherever you have send them to, send them to Elysium. And the other demigods I have brought into the army, send them to Elysium as well.”_

_There was a long silence coming from all three judges. He met their curious and surprised looks with a defiant stare._

_Finally, after several seconds, Rhadamanthys said gently, “Ethan Nakamura had been sentenced to the Fields of Asphodel. Originally, he was meant for the Fields of Punishment, but his final sacrifice to stop Kronos makes us decide that it was inappropriate for us to send him there. Silena Beauregard was a traitor that sold out secrets to the enemy. She tried to stop after feeling guilt, but was coaxed into continuing—” Here, Luke flinched. “Eventually, she chose to sacrifice her life to bring reinforcements and was honoured as a hero for her deed. She was send to Elysium.”_

_He relaxed, relieved that Silena doesn’t have to suffer anymore._

_“Send those meant for the Fields of Punishment to the Fields of Asphodel. Send those meant for the Fields of Asphodel to Elysium. These demigods were never truly cruel and merciless. They were all hurt by the lack of recognition shown to the other gods.” His voice got a little stronger when no one stopped him. “If we are going to start changing things, to recognize the unclaimed and fix the mistakes of the gods, then they shouldn’t be punished.”_

_“And you?” Thomas Jefferson asked curiously, leaning forward._

_It was through sheer willpower that his voice remained steady. “I betrayed everyone I loved. I hurt them. I’m responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocents. I revived Kronos. I nearly destroyed Olympus.”_

_“One who also died a hero, and ultimately saved Olympus and the Western civilization.” Rhadamanthys said. “You’d give up your chance for Elysium for these demigods?”_

_“It is only what I deserved.” He whispered._

_The three judges exchanged looks before turning away, conferring with each other for several minutes._

_Each minute ticked by agonizingly slow, a countdown to his fate._

_“We have made our decision.” Minos declared._

_He looked up with his heart in his throat._

_“We will abide to your request, Luke Castellan.” Jefferson said. “In return, you’ll be sentenced to the Fields of Punishment, for a span of the accumulated years these demigods have lived in their lives.”_

_“You’ll only be admitted into Elysium upon fulfilling those cumulated years.” Rhadamanthys decreed._

* * *

Avon, he found out, was a freelance comic artist. He adored dressing up in various button-up shirts in different kinds of blue. Coffee was his drugs. He has a habit of throwing away his cigarette box after smoking half of them. He loved walking around his house naked.

He also loved calling him ‘little thief’, once he found out that Luke used to pick wallets out of unsuspecting strangers’ pockets and steal stuffs from convenience stores. That’s as far as the brunette know about him. He doesn’t know about Thalia and Annabeth. He sure as hell does not know about Camp Half-Blood and demigods.

It’s a mishmash of different stories cobbled together as his life was seriously too fucked up.

It was kind of weird how his life had come to this point. An entire month of flirting and dates and the occasional quarrels that led them to heavy, erotic make out sessions that ended in sex.

He wasn’t _in_ love with Avon. But the guy was fun and awesome and took his mind off his nightmares. After that earthquake, everything seemed to go back to normal.

He tried to figure out if it’s really Kronos he had sensed back then, but he never felt that chilly presence again. Nightmares still haunted him, of Kronos, of the blood on his hands, of Thalia’s blue eyes, staring at him as if he’s a stranger. Of Annabeth’s crying, and Percy’s tears. Of the never-ending phantom pain that plagued his body and tore his flesh off his bones, over and over again in that cracked wasteland and dusky sky above his head.

He wondered if he’d ever again have a peaceful sleep.

But peace was a pipe dream anyway. Everyday, he constantly feared that Adrestia’s protection would disappear. If a monster was to attack, he’d have no ways to defend himself without any Celestial Bronze.

There were times he wished he had some awesome powers like Thalia’s lightning or even Percy’s water manipulation. If the gods were going to be such shitty parents anyway, then he wished he could have one of the Big Three as his parent. At least it comes with a cool power.

But, good things do not last long, and in his hands, they always fell apart.


	6. Chapter 6

Luke groaned as a splinter of wood snapped out and nearly slapped him in the face when he pushed open his front door. He pressed back the fraying wood as he entered his apartment.

Everything in his flat was falling apart. Just yesterday, his washroom’s doorknob fell off. He thought of calling over Avon for help, but quickly brushed that notion away. He had relied too much on the other man, and he felt uneasy at his dependence.

The peaceful life was straining on him.

He heard a soft scurry and froze. It sounded like feet scuttling against his waterpipes. Feet, plural, and more than one pair.

He knew his walls were thin. Some nights, he could hear rock music blaring three rooms away. The constant sex going on in his next-door neighbour’s house was a pain in the neck as well, although he had invested in a pair of comfortable earmuffs to block the noises during their more... vigorous nights.

But thin walls or not, he was familiar with locating noises and the scurrying was clearly coming from his own apartment.

Luke slowly backed away, swallowing anxiously. He bumped against the table, felt around with his hands, making sure to keep his back to the wall as he inched towards the front door.

There was a screeching noise and something black jumped towards him in his peripheral vision. He reacted instantly, grabbing the stupid potted plant Avon had jokingly gotten for him as a gift.

He’s no child of Apollo but the pot struck the creature. He ran for the door, not stopping to see where the creature had landed. Another leaped out from beneath the tattered couch, the size of a kitten. He managed to dodge out of its way, but he felt its sting grazed his arm. His skin swelled immediately, flaring a bright red. His ears started to ring and his vision swayed in front of him. He stumbled and tried to run, but his legs were not cooperating.

He saw both pit scorpions scuttling towards him. He willed his legs to move, but they remained still and motionless.

 _This must be irony,_ he thought. Being killed by the very creature that he had summoned to kill Percy once upon a time.

As the colours around him started to brighten to an intensity sharp enough to hurt his eyes, he felt the floor beneath his body vibrated with footsteps. He looked up woozily, catching sight of Avon standing over him.

 _Run,_ he thought.

But the expression on Avon’s face was fierce and almost feral. He looked unfamiliar. He looked unreal. He looked like a vengeful god sprung from a folk tale.

The pipes exploded above Avon’s head, sprays of water twirling towards the pit scorpions. The paralysis finally set in and Luke closed his eyes.

* * *

His whole apartment was in a complete mess when he regained consciousness. The pipes were shattered, as if a great force had burst through from within. Water had sunk into the wooden planks of his floor, causing a strange, musty smell to waft across the room. His chair laid broken on the floor, feathers wet and strewn everywhere.

His landlord was going to kill him.

“Who are you exactly?” He asked quietly, staring at the auburn-haired man standing opposite him.

Avon’s expression was solemn, fists clenched beside him.

“Alpheus.” He answered, soft and guilty, but dignified, refusing to look ashamed.

_The river god who was in love with the Nereid_ _Arethusa, pursuing her until Artemis changed her into a spring._

“Get out.” Luke gritted his teeth.

Alpheus narrowed his eyes—blue like lapis lazuli, or blue like the river, darker than the sea, darker than Thalia’s, but still one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He loved them, hounded the beauty of those lovely eyes, but now the sight of them angered him.

“Luke, I didn’t know who you were in the beginning. I didn’t approach you on purpose.” Alpheus explained.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” He yelled, taking a wobbly step forward. The swelling had gone down, the red had faded into a pale sunset pink. All that would be left would be a new scar once it’s completely healed. “You must have known for _weeks_. You knew who I am. You knew what I have done. _You lied to me_.”

The worst thing was that he genuinely liked Avon.

But Avon never exist, didn’t he?

“I didn’t lie.” Alpheus denied. “I kept the truth from you.”

“It’s the same fucking thing!” He growled. _Hades._ The gods are infuriating, and apparently even the minor ones.

“Get out, _Alpheus_.” He spat the god’s name with derision. “Get out of my life. If I ever see you again, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Luke—” His name, spoken so casually on the god’s tongue made him see red. He picked up the pitcher of water by his side and flung it at Alpheus’s face.

The god wisely left, giving him one last apologetic look before he vanished out of his flat.

Luke took an unsteady breath and collapsed back onto his bed. He pushed back the urge to cry, feeling oddly stricken by the loss. He resolved not to think too much on it and stood back up to start packing.

Maine was not safe anymore.

That night, he stole a car and drove out of town. He drove down towards Chicago, and in between his pit stops, found a bundle at the back of the car. When he unrolled the bundle, he found a sword made of Celestial Bronze.

It’s double-bladed, but more slender and shorter than Backbiter. The hilt was wrapped in leather, the pommel flat with a stud of lapis lazuli affixed at the end. It was completely weightless in his grip, and the metal practically sang when he swung it. It could also transform into a simple bronze bracelet to conceal. 

Riptide and Backbiter was definitely more powerful, but this sword was no slouch either.

“That idiot.” He muttered. It doesn’t take a genius to guess who had left this behind in his car.

He named the sword Avon, for the mortal man he thought he could love if given enough time.

He slipped on the bracelet around his left wrist, climbed back into the car and started driving.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's take a peek on our heroes' side on what's going on while Luke is trying to make ends meet on his side...

_“Kronos tried to break out of Tartarus.”_ Percy still remembered that day clearly. It was a sunny day, the camp still wet from the early morning drizzle. Annabeth had been especially pretty, her blond hair looking bouncier than usual. He just ate a double chocolate blueberry muffin for breakfast. Jason and Piper were visiting during their school summer holidays. Leo had nearly blown up the Hephaestus cabin.

And then Nico had asked to speak to them—the Seven, or half of them—privately.

Percy had been shaken by the news. He hadn’t even known that Kronos’s scattered body had reformed, or that he was back in Tartarus.

_“He failed, but the attempt caused several cracks to appear in the Underworld. Many souls fell through the cracks into the living world.” Nico informed._

_“Is this serious?” Jason asked._

_To their surprise, Nico shook his head. “No... Dad got everyone working around the clock to retrieve the lost souls.”_

_“What happened, Nico?” Annabeth questioned, her eyes narrowed shrewdly._

_The son of Hades inhaled sharply, looking up at her almost apologetically. “It’s Luke Castellan. He’s one of those lost souls.”_

_With that one sentence, he upheaved both Percy and Annabeth’s world._

He stared blankly into the lake, ignoring the soft ripples on the surface.

Luke occasionally popped up in his mind. It was hard to forget someone like Luke, how he had almost destroyed the world, how he had given up his life to stop Kronos.

He thought Luke was going to try for rebirth.

 _“He was sentenced to the Fields of Punishment.”_ Nico revealed, regret on his face. He hadn’t known, he claimed. But who would have thought that Luke would still be in the Underworld? _“He traded his chance for Elysium, in exchange for all the demigods in the Titan Army to be spared from the Fields of Punishment. Most of them were able to enter Elysium because of his request.”_

Annabeth had broken down in tears. Percy knew better than to disturb her when she’s pissed. It’s best to let her simmer down first before he tried to approach.

He was no longer jealous of his girlfriend’s crush on Luke. _It was a puppy crush,_ Annabeth had said wistfully. Luke was an older brother figure that took care and protected her. Was it any surprise she bore a small crush on him when she grew older?

He was family. He was the older brother she wished she had more time with. Getting Thalia back doesn’t make up for the loss of Luke, when Thalia eventually left her to join the Hunters of Artemis.

Does he want Hades to find Luke and drag him back to the Fields of Punishment? He might have resented Luke in the beginning, but he didn’t want that kind of fate for his former friend.

He thought of the reason Luke had waged war against Olympus. Things were getting better, but very slowly. Baby steps though. More cabins were being built for the minor gods and goddesses. Children were being claimed faster.

Luke had not died for nothing.

Does Hermes know of his son’s fate in the Underworld? There was no denying the god’s love for his son, the grief and regret in his eyes before he sent Luke’s body off with the Fates.

Luke had to die to set things right, but was it fair?

Percy had offered his help, but Nico had given him one long look and shook his head sadly.

 _“You can’t change his fate, Percy.”_ Nico had said.

Perhaps not. Luke died in the end, didn’t he? He died as the Prophecy foretold. He sacrificed his life to stop Kronos. The Prophecy came true. His fate was fulfilled.

Fate had not prophesized Luke’s afterlife.

Slowly, unsurely, like an unfurling bud, Percy felt a small spark of hope in his chest.


	8. Chapter 8

Portland was rainy and cold, but he wasn’t planning on settling down here anyway. He had missed the feeling of freedom. He missed the wind in his face, the frightening unknown in his future. He missed the travel, the unexplored.

He definitely didn’t miss the monsters.

He staked an empousa in the heart after his temporary work, when she chose to hunt him for her dinner. He’s still pissed at Alpheus, but he’s grateful for the god’s gift.

He spent his nights at the back of his car, curled up in the seat with a blanket he had stolen (and spitefully never return) from Alpheus a long time ago and just counting down to the day all this end.

He hasn’t seen Adrestia since she dumped him in the middle of Maine. Her protection seemed to be starting to fade. He has a Celestial Bronze blade now to protect himself, so he wasn’t overly concerned with the monsters.

He worried that the shielding would reveal his location to the gods.

This second chance might not be forever. Even if he could outrun Hades forever, he has to die again one day.

Should he really be running from his punishment? Should he march right back to the Underworld to surrender himself?

His eyes fell shut in the darkness, but he remained awake.

His nights were cycled between nightmares and forced vigilance these days. He either woke up screaming and trembling, or couldn’t fall asleep no matter what. He preferred the latter compared to the horrors he sees in his dreams, until he nearly drove right into a tree once because he’s too tired.

Unable to sleep, he crawled to the front of the vehicle. Might as well continue driving since he had apparently cycled back to vigilance tonight. He started the engine, and it spluttered and choked loudly before it moved.

* * *

He’s near Manchester when he ran into some serious trouble. Not the monster variety, which he would actually preferred. A stray ventus had come close enough to catch a whiff of his demigod scent and thought him a pushover.

One ventus was not enough to kill him, although he hadn’t been paying attention and paid for it when he was blown into a tree.

“Damn fly.” He cursed, his back protesting in pain. Avon returned to its bracelet form, cold metal around his wrist. He reached back with one hand to press against his spine and was rewarded with a throbbing pain.

“—It’s this way!”

He went still as voices drifted over.

“You said that the other time!” A second voice grumbled loudly. “And it was only a cat!”

It was too late to run as two people popped up from behind the foliage.

“Oh!” The girl exclaimed.

They were both a little younger than him. The dark-skinned young woman who was pointing at him in surprise had curly brown hair and a pair of striking gold eyes. Her partner was a tall and muscular boy, and his eyes were a strange blue that looked oddly shaded.

“Who are you?” Luke asked warily, turning his gaze towards the girl instead. The boy’s strange eyes were a little jarring to look at.

“Sorry, we were looking for a... um,” The girl turned panicked eyes towards her partner.

“A dog.” The boy offered, grinning in amusement. He took a long sip from the Kool-Aid bottle in his hand, which Luke watched with envy.

He had been on the road for hours and he just finished his only bottle of water. He hadn’t had Kool-Aid for so long.

“Right.” Luke gave them an incredulous look. Finding a dog in the middle of nowhere? These two was suspicious. “Then I’m going to leave right now.”

“Wait!” The girl exclaimed. She flushed at the unexpected volume of her voice when her partner jumped. “Sorry, our car broke down. Can you take us to the nearest town?”

Her sleeve shifted aside and Luke caught a glimpse of black ink on the inside of her arm. It looked like a weirdly-shaped cross and a line beneath it. His heart skipped a beat as he stared at the girl. Unfortunately, her sleeve had fall back into place.

“We’ll fuel up your car when we reach town.” She promised.

“We are?” The boy asked. She elbowed him in the ribs discreetly.

Luke worried his bottom lip, tempted by her offer. He tried to find a plausible excuse to reject her without sounding like an absolute ass, but her pleading golden eyes were too much.

“Okay, fine.” He sighed, but make sure the Celestial Bronze bracelet stayed out of sight.


	9. Chapter 9

The pair of strangers he had picked up, Dakota and Hazel, were apparently on a ‘road trip’. They were cousins, Hazel claimed, and their transport was damaged when they accidentally drove right into a ditch. She shot one annoyed glare at Dakota as she explained this.

Luke merely hummed noncommittedly as he pretended to believe their bluff. He lied that he was driving to visit his parents in New York and gave them the name, ‘Lucas’.

 _Lucas, really?_ He nearly smacked himself. He might as well be telling them who he is. But it was too sudden and he didn’t have time to come up with another false name.

Other than a considering look from Dakota and a frown from Hazel, they didn’t seem overly cautious of him.

Traveling with two other demigods—and he was completely sure that they were like him—was a nerve wrecking experience. He’s pretty sure they were Roman as well, when he spied a similar tattoo on Dakota’s arm. He had run into a couple of them a long time ago, and he could recognize them off the bat. Their tendency to mark their demigods was a glaring tell too.

“I’m really thankful for your help.” Hazel said with gratitude. Dakota had wandered into the convenience store the moment he got out of the car.

They finally drove into a town by evening. As promised, Hazel paid for his car oil. 

Once his tank was filled, he was going to continue driving, until he’s sure that these two demigods couldn’t catch up with him once they realized who he was.

“It’s fine.” Luke muttered. “I was going the same way anyway.”

He shifted uncomfortably as Hazel continued staring at him.

“Is there something on my face?” He asked, unable to tolerate her gawking any longer.

Hazel blushed, the bright red on her cheeks clashing with her warm cocoa complexion.

“Sorry,” She giggled. “It’s just that you look like someone I know.”

A jolt of anxiety shot through his body. Hazel didn’t particularly look very threatening, but so did Annabeth. They were both small and unassuming.

“Is he as handsome as me?” He joked.

Perhaps the Roman camp wasn’t informed of the runaway souls. After all, they didn’t greet him with a sword in his chest. How many infamous blond-haired demigods with a scar on his face was there in this world anyway?

“Not as much.” Hazel laughed teasingly. “It’s just the blond hair and blue eyes... he has a scar too. Except it’s on his lip instead.”

Luke felt tension slid away from his shoulders, although he was not completely calm.

“By the way, I thought that you were looking for your dog back there.” He asked. “What happened to it?”

Hazel blinked rapidly, a nervous titter slipping from her lips.

“Ha. Ha, ha. That’s... That’s Frankie.” She smiled. “He’ll find his way back. He’s a smart dog.”

“Shall we go now?” A voice interrupted.

Dakota was carrying two bags of Kool-Aids, and seriously, how much does this guy loved his drink?

“I think my car is done as well.” He coughed, straightening up.

“Hey, Lucas?” Dakota called out.

Luke had to hide a grimace as he turned back with a curious tilt of his head. The younger man tossed a Kool-Aid at him and he nearly fumbled to catch the bottle.

“Bye.” Dakota said.

He released a breath of relief and waved to the two demigods. He couldn’t believe that he had survived meeting two demigods, but knew not to question his good fortune.

Time to keep moving.  


	10. Chapter 10

“Happy New Year, brother!” Hazel greeted, tiptoeing to peck Nico on the cheek. She giggled at his flustered blush.

“I thought you were travelling with Dakota.” Nico said, looking around in confusion, as if expecting the son of Bacchus to appear from thin air.

“I dropped him off along the way. He’s visiting his grandmother.” Hazel explained, being led through Camp Half-Blood. “Has Frank arrived yet?”

With his praetor duties consuming his time, Frank was barely able to leave Camp Jupiter. He had sent her ahead to join her brother and friends first, claiming he’ll be coming by shortly. Because of Dakota and a pack of vicious hellhounds, their car had been wrecked and their travel time delayed.

Thank the gods for the kind soul that came upon them and took them all the way to town.

“Yep, he arrived an hour ago.” Nico answered. “He was getting worried.”

“Hazel!” Both siblings looked up at the excited yell.

They spotted Percy bounding down the pathway, followed by an exasperated Annabeth.

“You looked tired.” Annabeth said in concern, giving her a one-armed hug, brief but affectionate. Percy bended down to carry her bags, giving her a pointed stare when she opened her mouth to object. She eventually sighed and passed the bags over.

“So, what do you guys do for New Year in Camp Half-Blood?” She asked curiously.

There doesn’t seems to be any difference in Camp Half-Blood, although she could sense the lively mood around her.

“You’ll see later.” Percy winked. “Leo has been working on some fireworks for the last few days.”

Excitement lit up in her golden eyes. She has never seen fireworks before.

She can’t wait for evening to come.

* * *

“You have a lot of books here.” Hazel observed. There’s sketches and doodles of blueprints that scattered over Annabeth's work desk. She paused briefly to study them.

She knew that Jason was busy with building temples for the minor gods, and had been taking advice from Annabeth. While not an avid architect herself, Hazel have quite a few ideas to contribute.

There were three photo frames on her desk. There was one with the entire Athena cabin, another with Percy and Annabeth, and the last one was partially shoved behind a book stand.

She glanced back at Annabeth, who was still rummaging through the boxes. She was moving a few of her belongings to Boston, and had barely started on packing them.

Hazel pulled out the third photo frame, curiosity tickling the back of her mind. The photo depicted a very young Annabeth, around twelve or thirteen. Beside her was an older boy, grinning mischievously at the camera. His blue eyes were bright with a familiar glint found on most Hermes’ children.

“I found the confetti.” Annabeth called, pulling out several sticks from a box. “Let’s go.”

She turned around, saw Hazel standing motionlessly with the photo frame in her hand and went still in surprise.

“Sorry!” Hazel squeaked in embarrassment. She tried to put the frame down on the desk, but it nearly fell out of her grip and she stumbled to catch it. “I was—I was just curious.”  
  
“It’s okay, Hazel.” Annabeth laughed. She glanced at the photo frame and her eyes went sad. Her smile faded into a wistful grimace. “That’s Luke. I think he was nineteen in that photo? Oh, it’s such a long time ago.”

“Luke.” She murmured, studying the boy’s face with a confused frown. “As in Luke Castellan?”

She heard bits and pieces of the war against Olympus and the Great Prophecy. Even in Camp Jupiter, the story was famous.

“Yes.” Annabeth nodded.

Hazel continued staring at the photo, her confusion mounting. The boy in the photo looked a little younger, livelier and healthier, but that blond hair and blue eyes and impish smile…

“I think I ran into him on my way here.” She blurted.

Silence.

When she looked up, Annabeth was staring at her as if she’s a ghost. Her face had gone stark white, her eyes wide with shock and badly concealed hope.

She recoiled from the older girl, wondering if she had said something wrong.

“I think you better start from the beginning.” Annabeth said tightly.


	11. Chapter 11

_He’s in a small, grey room with no doors or windows, as far as he could see. The room was impossibly cold, evident from his shivering and the cloud of vapor in front of his mouth every time he exhaled._

_There was a man standing in front of him, although he’s not quite sure where he had appeared from, he doesn’t find it strange. He must be dreaming._

_He tried to move his hands, his fingers. His legs refused to move an inch. He knows he’s standing, but it seemed out of his control._

_The man was dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit, long-fingered hands resting on a black cane between his legs. The handle seemed to curve oddly to the side, but when he tried to focus on it, a headache sharpened behind his eyes. The man’s face was clouded, as if there’s smoke blocking his sight._

_“You can’t escape me, Luke Castellan.” The man growled. “Your little patron goddess can try to hide you from me, but even her protection will run out one day. When that day comes, **you’re mine**!” _

_He tried to run, but he can’t feel his legs. The cold intensified in the small room, frost forming on his lashes. The darkness seemed to spread out from the other, stretching out with greedy hands towards him. It reached his feet, and then proceeded to wrap around his body. The shadows seemed to sink into his skin, into his bones. It felt like it was searching, digging through his body, scraping against the inside of his flesh._

_The man stepped forward, swinging his cane towards his face. He felt the cane struck the side of his face, pain exploding from the impact. He let out a strangled scream as he fell._

 

Luke jack-knifed into a sitting position, still screaming. In his panic, he fell out of the car seat and bumped his nose against the back of the driver seat. He swore loudly, struggling to untangle himself from his blanket.

His cheek was throbbing in pain, his left eye squeezed shut and watering underneath. Frost clung to his lashes and hair, even though the heater was turned on inside the vehicle. He grabbed his backpack and started hunting for a mirror.

His cheek was swollen as he held up the mirror to his face. There was a thin trickle of blood from a small cut on the curve of his cheekbone. Luckily, it wasn’t broken but it hurts when he pressed down lightly on the bruise.

He could really use some ambrosia now.

In the meantime, he wiped the frost off his face frantically. His hands were shaking hard enough that the mirror slipped right through his grip.

He only known of one person that could manipulate dreams. Someone _powerful_ enough to hurt him in a dream and have his injuries reflect on his physical body. He’s supposed to be gone, his essence too scattered to have a proper body. Whatever was left of Kronos had been gathered by the gods and returned to Tartarus. It was implausible that he has any power left.

He glanced out of his car, spotted the imposing Walmart building in the distance and swallowed nervously. All sense of tiredness forgotten, he started the car and drove out of the parking lot.


	12. Chapter 12

The roar from the monster vibrated in his ears and he instinctively ducked as a large fist swung above his head. He leaped to the side, sinking his sword into the creature’s meaty arm. The tip carved from wrist to elbow, spilling golden blood onto the pavement. It stomped in fury, punching a crater into the ground. Reaching down, it grabbed a van and tossed it into the air towards Luke.

He yelped and dropped to the ground, rolling away from the chaos. The monster bended down and grabbed everything within its reach, even yanking out a lamp post. It hurled them at Luke, who cursed and cut down a car.

He dashed away, hoping to lure the monster into a more secluded spot. Fortunately, it took the bait and lurched after him.

“Traitoooor!” It groaned, sniffing the air. It sucked in air, chest hollowing. Luke managed to jump behind a pillar before it spat out a mouthful of acid.

“What the fuck!” He cried, staring at the melted rubble. If it hits him, he’d be dead instantly.

He adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword, charged under the swinging fists and sliced into its inner thigh. As it stumbled, one knee slamming into the ground, he leaped up and stabbed Avon into the monster’s neck.

As it vanished in a flurry of gold dust, he speared Avon into the ground, swaying weakly. He blinked away the dots of black in his vision, rubbing his temple.

He’s afraid of sleeping, of seeing Kronos in his dreams again. Recently, there have been a steady increase of monsters ambushing him, the ones who could speak shrieking ‘traitor’ at him as they tried their best to murder him. His cheek was still bruised and aching, and that had not improved his temper at all.

With how things are going right now, it won’t be long before his lack of sleep killed him.

Perhaps it’s time to immerse himself into civilisation again. New York was just an hour away, and maybe he could lose himself in the bustle of the city.

* * *

There was an extremely high chance that the young man Hazel and Dakota had ran into was Luke Castellan.

Hazel just couldn’t connect that grumpy and quiet young man who had drove them all the way to the nearest town with the boy who had waged war against the gods.

Annabeth had instructed her to keep things quiet. She didn’t want to ruin everyone’s New Year party with news of Luke. She wanted to wait till the next day before informing Percy and everyone else. Especially Thaila, Annabeth had said. Jason’s older sister who had arrived this evening before the party started.

So, Hazel agreed. She wanted to keep the bright smile on Percy’s lips and the laughter in Thalia’s eyes.

“What’s with the frown?” Frank asked, joining her with a glass of fruit punch in his hand.

She chuckled and shook her head. Ever the responsible friend, she mused. Leo had already chugged back three bottles of cider the last time she saw him, and feared that if she lingered around any longer, she might be treated to an impromptu striptease.

“It’s nothing.” She muttered. At his sceptical look, she laughed and playfully nudged him with her arm. “It’s really nothing. You’ll find out tomorrow anyway...”

Before Frank could ask her what she meant, there was an explosion of colours erupting above them, confetti scattering everywhere. She laughed in delight, and turned to her boyfriend. Frank was staring at her with a soft smile, and he reached out to pull one stray streamer caught in her hair.

“Happy new year.” He whispered, kissing her lightly on her lips.

“Happy new year.” She replied.

She hoped that wherever Luke Castellan—or Lucas, or whoever he really was, he’s having a good time too. Even a lost soul deserved to be happy on New Year.


	13. Chapter 13

“Do you come here often?” The blonde slurred, giggling when Luke gave her a bemused stare.

“I work here.” He said patiently, discreetly moving her cocktail away as she sprawled over the bar counter. He couldn’t help but smirked at her pout.

She was really quite pretty. She has short honey blond hair, a shade darker than his, and very lovely hazel eyes.

She’s also very drunk, and hitting on him.

“I think you better go home now. It’s late.” He said calmly. “Do you need me to call a taxi for you?”

“Yeah, sure.” She agreed. She proceeded to lean forward, as if she’s trying to push her cleavage in his face. It was a really endearing and hilarious sight, as all she managed to do in her drunkenness was smashed her breasts against the counter. “Will you be coming home with me?”

Perhaps in another life, he would. But he’s wary of anyone approaching him nowadays. He hadn’t even notice the otherworldliness of Avon. He can’t trust his own senses right now, and he had to admit that he still chafed at the thought of Avon.

“No.” He smiled politely, before he went off to call a taxi for her.

Once he helped her into her taxi, avoided her unsubtle groping, and wrangled the rest of the patrons out of the club, he settled back down to close up the bar. It was a quiet night for a Thursday, but there were a handful of stubborn customers that refused to leave until Luke came out to give them a dark glare.

It was good to see that the glare he used to utilize against the younger Hermes’ kids still worked.

“It seems that you’re surviving well, Son of Hermes.” A young woman sat down casually in front of his counter.

He stiffened, muscles tensing up to either fight or flee. Avon rattled against his wrist, warming up against his skin.

“Relax, I’m just here to talk.” Adrestia chuckled.

“You haven’t been around since you saved me and dumped me in the middle of nowhere in Maine.” He said curtly, eyeing her dubiously. “I thought that was going to be our last meeting.”

She was wearing black skinny jeans and a crimson bomber jacket over a white shirt, her curly hair in a high ponytail. Large silver hoops dangled at her ears and a diamond glimmered against her tongue when she laughed.

She looked completely different from the chaste, delicate image she first presented to him.

But what can he expect from a goddess of just retribution anyway?

“What do you want from me?” He asked, looking around. It was like his colleagues couldn’t see the strange woman sitting at the bar counter. Their eyes seemed to slide over Adrestia and Luke whenever they looked over.  

“My protection on you is fading, Luke.” Adrestia said seriously. “And I can’t help you any longer, not at risk to myself.”

“I know. The monsters are starting to smell me.” He muttered.

“Soon, the gods will be able to sense you.” Adrestia said.

He swallowed with difficulty, his nails digging into his palms. He knew what the goddess was trying to say. Soon, Zeus will find him. If he’s lucky enough to avoid a lightning bolt, Hades would drag him back to the Underworld to continue his punishment.

He knew what he was asking for when he traded his chance of Elysium. He had anticipated the eternal torture and suffering, could accept the pain he would receive. But he had not counted on his sins haunting him, taunting him in his head, showing him images of the people he had hurt. Poisoning Thalia’s tree, making Annabeth cry, leaving Percy to die...

“But first, be a dear and pour me a glass of red wine, won’t you?” Adrestia smiled sweetly.

He gave her a vexed stare, but bended down to pull up a bottle of red wine and hoped his boss doesn’t notice the missing wine. Her face lighted up in glee as he poured the wine into the glass, downing it in one mouthful.

She smacked her lips, nodding in approval. “I’m sure you felt that recent earthquake in the living world.”

He nodded warily.

“Well, bad news, it’s Kronos trying to escape again. Good news, he didn’t, but many of his old minions escaped.” She explained. He’s not quite sure how that counted as good news. “The monsters are gathering once more, and the gods are keeping everything shush. After the Titan war, some of the minor gods were appeased, but some remained vengeful and bitter. I fear Kronos might be trying to create a new body for himself.”

“A new body that can sustain a titan’s power?” He questioned uneasily. “Even when he’s... using my body as a vessel, my body couldn’t withstand his power and was already breaking down when he—I attacked Olympus.”

“Even for a titan, Kronos is unimaginably powerful.” Adrestia concurred, a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes. “We still do not know what he’s planning, but just be careful, Luke. You betrayed him once, and Kronos knows how to hold grudges.”

He watched with wide eyes as she proceeded to drink straight from the wine bottle.

“I don’t understand... Why are you helping me?” He asked.

She shook the bottle at him. “Don’t mistake this as help. You’ll soon regret me stealing you from the grasp of Lord Hades. At least you’re safe in his domain.” She stood up, taking the wine glass and bottle with her. “I am also the goddess of sublime balance between good and evil. I’m just making sure the scales are balanced.”

He doesn’t understand what she meant, and even if he wanted to ask, she was already walking out of the club.


	14. Chapter 14

“Are you really sure it’s him?” Percy asked, for what was perhaps the sixth time in five minutes. He’s sporting a hangover from the party last night, but Annabeth had forced nectar down his throat when she gathered them in the Big House.

 _“Yes.”_ Hazel snapped. The amount of times Percy had needled at her had driven her nuts.

“We all know he’s still out there.” Nico interrupted. “Where did you say he’s heading towards again?”

“He claimed that he was visiting parents in New York, that’s all.” She sighed. She chanced a glance towards Thalia’s direction. The girl was unnervingly silent, ever since the meeting started. It was not the good kind of silent, but the sort that reminded Hazel of a landmine on the verge of going off.

“Anyone found out what happened during the Underworld earthquake?” Jason questioned, looking around curiously. He was throwing strange glances at his sister every once in a while. “I have a feeling it’s connected to the earthquake in the living world that happened, like, two months after. It’s kinda in the news everywhere.”

“It is.” Nico heaved a sigh. “I tried asking Hades... but he’s being obtusely silent about this matter. It’s not like everyone doesn’t know that Kronos got something to do with it.”

Percy flinched at the titan’s name.

“I tried finding him.” Nico said, his eyes fixed on Thalia. His voice was soft, cautious. “I can’t... I don’t know. Something is blocking me from him.”

“I didn’t sense anything strange either when I met him.” Hazel mused.

“Well, you said New York, right?” Leo grinned. “I guess we can start from there.”

Everyone stared at him.

“You’re suggesting to look for him?” Piper asked hesitantly.

“You know what’s going to happen once we find him, right?” Frank said gently. “We have a duty to hand him over to Hades.”

Annabeth swallowed, but she remained silent.

“If Kronos is involved, then the gods must know something.” Thalia finally spoke, startling the rest of them. “Whether Luke is connected to the earthquake or not, we’ll know when we find him.”

Her hard eyes dared anyone to contradict her.

“Are you saying you’ll search for him as well?” Jason asked quietly, his gaze piercing. There was no judgement on his expression, just quiet understanding.

Thalia bit her lip.

“Won’t you get in trouble with Artemis?” Hazel said, faltering when two pairs of electric blue eyes turned towards her. Jason was one of her closest friends, and she knew that he’d rather die than hurt her. But his sister was an enigma, like a live wire whenever Luke’s name was mentioned.

“You leave Luke to us.” Percy piped up. “We don’t want you to get in trouble. You’re not supposed to go hunting for boys, right?”

“No, but hunting for an escaped soul is another story.” Thalia said, standing up abruptly. “You’re not leaving without me, Percy Jackson.”

She shot Percy a firm glare before she walked out of the room.

“So, are you in?” Percy grinned, raising a brow at Nico.

Nico groaned and muttered something rude under his breath. He threw his hands up in the air, giving Percy an angry glare. “Someone have to watch out for you idiots.”

Hazel wondered if she should point out that New York is _huge_ , but supposed that she doesn’t want to dampen Percy’s spirit, not when the boy had looked so shaken in the beginning when she told him that she might have met Luke.

The Seven are back together for another quest, and frankly, she’s kinda excited.


	15. Chapter 15

Consulting with Rachel yielded no results, and then Annabeth got one of the Hecate’s kids to try scrying for Luke. The kid only managed to catch flashes of dancing inside a nightclub, but New York have _tons_ of clubs. They were going to take months if they were to search every single club.

The girl, Tia, promised to contact Annabeth if she got more results.

Thalia returned in the evening, her expression pensive and far away, but she merely nodded at Percy and joined their group. Now, all they have to do was sneak out without alerting Chiron and Mr D. Jason and Frank have left first to secure transport, and the rest would meet up with them once they were out of camp.

“Be careful.” Calypso warned. She chose to stay behind in Camp Half-Blood. She doesn’t know Luke, and she asserted that the camp needed some protection if everyone’s going to traipse across New York to search for one lost soul. “Monster activity has been increasing. They are reforming faster than usual.”

“What’s new in our lives?” Leo laughed.

Calypso rolled her eyes and kissed him gently on the lips before she waved them farewell. She watched them departed anxiously, praying quietly for all of them to return safely.

* * *

“Chiron!” Connor cried, dashing towards the centaur. “Chiron, you have to come!”

He narrowly ducked a flying blade swung towards his head by a startled Ares girl. 

“What’s going on?” Chiron asked sternly. He’s been having a headache the whole morning since he discovered the disappearances of several of his campers. When questioned, Will and Calypso had looked appropriately surprised.

“It’s Rachel.” Connor panted. “I think she’s having a prophecy.”

Chiron cantered off immediately.

He found the redhead collapsed on the ground, surrounded by various campers. When they saw him approaching, they immediately cleared from his path.

Rachel was being helped up by Kayla into a sitting position. Her green eyes were blank and they were swivelling around frantically, as if searching for a particular someone.

Abruptly, her mouth dropped open and she croaked out,

 

_Eldest’s body that breathes life,_

_Ichor of the god that holds the chains,_

_Heart of a thief who betrays._

_Beware of the lover’s blade,_

_At death, only will the soul fades._

_The erst traitor shall rise or fall by the river’s rue._

 

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped against Kayla.

“Take her to the infirmary!” Chiron ordered.

“Another prophecy, huh.” Dionysus sighed, meandering up to the centaur. Unbeknownst to them, Calypso wandered closer to eavesdrop. Although her magic was still weak, she managed to bend the Mist to conceal her presence.

Just to be safe, she remained out of sight.

“Do you have any idea who it might meant?” Chiron asked.

Dionysus guffawed, shaking his head in amusement. “I doubt even Apollo himself could completely interpret his own prophecies.”

“Do you think... it involves Kronos?” Chiron’s voice lowered, and Calypso had to strain to catch his words.

Dionysus’s expression goes dark.

“When does it not involves _him_?” He scowled heavily. “He has been stirring up so much trouble in Tartarus. Guy doesn’t know how to give up.”

“Have you heard about...” Chiron’s expression was pained. He suddenly looked old and tired, as if grief had stolen his youth for a moment.

“Luke?” Dionysus finished his sentence. His own expression was unreadable. “When hundreds of souls escaped, it’s mere statistics to my dear uncle. But when it comes to that kid... well, he’s the Hero of the Great Prophecy after all.”

“I knew you remembered his name.” Chiron smiled, although it was a wan reflection of his real one. At Dionysus’s angry scoff, he chuckled. “Does Hermes know?”

“About his fate in the Underworld?” Dionysus let out an ugly laugh. “He sure as fuck doesn’t. Apollo was just telling me about the shitstorm happening up there.” He flicked a thumb up at the sky, indicating Olympus. “He’s _pissed_ that our uncle had not informed him of his son’s fate. No idea why, really... He has so many kids...”

They ambled off, and Calypso had to resist following after them. She has heard enough, and they might catch her if she tried to follow. The important thing was Rachel’s prophecy.

She need to get it to Leo immediately.


	16. Chapter 16

_“Traitor! Traitor! **Traitor! TraiTOR!”**_

****

Luke screamed awake, tears of agony welling up in his eyes. He immediately curled around his arm, looking down at the limb wildly. He could still hear the echoes of Kronos’s roars in his ears, the titan’s rage like flames burning against his flesh.

He glanced at his reddened arm, swallowing down a pained sob. In the darkness, he could make out a fingerprint mark on his forearm. It was bright red against his tanned skin, the edges where nails were supposed to be breaking skin. Blood steadily leaked down his arm.

He hoped it wasn’t broken.

He understood now that Kronos had gotten stronger. The times he woken up physically hurt was increasing. More and more monsters were starting to appear, prowling around the area.

He was getting desperate.

Kronos had gotten into his head _again_. There was nowhere in this world he could run without escaping from the titan.

He thought it was over when he died in Olympus, that he had finally gotten Kronos _out_ of his head. He doesn’t have to hear the titan’s manipulations, or feel his own body being violated and used without his will.

Maybe Adrestia was right, that he’d regret leaving the Underworld. Perhaps throwing him back to life had allowed Kronos to regain control of him.

 _Never again_ , he thought. He’d never allowed Kronos to take his body again.

* * *

“Hey,” A young woman was waiting near the club’s backdoor when he arrived. “Can we talk?”

He gave her a perplexed look, studying her features intently. Short honey blond hair and hazel eyes, with a small, heart-shaped face and a button nose.

When she giggled nervously, he got a flashback of a drunken young woman trying to hit on him.

“You...” He said in recognition. “You’re that girl from back then.”

He took a step forward and froze abruptly.

The strong scent of seawater floated towards him. The woman smiled at him, and her hazel eyes seemed to flicker rapidly between colours.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“Please, I meant no harm.” She said anxiously, raising her hands. “I’m here to talk. I was directed here by Alpheus.”

Bitterness and anger surged to the surface. He should have known that the river god was keeping track of him.

“I don’t want to talk to any gods.” He said calmly. He was sick of being toyed by gods, made to dance to their puppet strings. Even now, he has no idea what Adrestia wants from him.

“Please give me five minutes.” The woman pleaded. “It’s important.”

He growled under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance. Finally, he exhaled sharply and forcefully reined in his anger.

“Start talking.” He commanded.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She released a breath of relief, bowing. “My name is Melite. I am one of Oceanus’s daughters.” An Oceanid. That explained the heavy scent of seawater. “My father has gone missing.”

He raised a brow in surprise.

“My sisters and brothers refused to believe he has been attacked.” Melite continued, terror in her eyes. “But I know. I was there when Kronos came to speak with Father.” She tried to hide the tremor in her hands. “I would recognize that sickening power anywhere.”

She took an unsteady breath to calm herself. “When Father vanished back into the depths to recuperate, we thought he had gone back to rest. We didn’t even notice him gone.”

“There’s no signs of battle?” He asked. Even if Kronos was the most powerful titan, Oceanus was no weakling. He’s the eldest titan.

“Sometimes Father would enter hibernation.” Melite said. “But even then, he’s not weak. He should be able to sense an attack.” She straightened up, looking regal. “I _know_ that Kronos is involved. I am here to _warn_ you, Luke Castellan. There has been word spreading amongst his monsters and followers that he is searching for the traitor.”

Fear paralysed his body, freezing through his veins. His breath rattled in his throat, and he was suddenly filled with despair and dread.  

“I have children of my own. Some I have sired with mortal men.” Melite whispered. “Some who have died when Kronos dragged my father to war.”

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

“I’m not angry with you.” She said softly. “My children are grown, and those who have chosen to fight for Kronos knew and understood their choices. Their choices might have led to their deaths, but I can never shame them for it.”

She swallowed convulsively, blinking her tears away quickly.

“They have made their own choices.” She said quietly. “Kronos will soon come for you. You should pack up and leave this place. Your scent is getting stronger the longer you stay here.” She inclined her head, her smile mild with sorrow. “This is the only help I can give you.”

“Thank you.” He said, his voice shaky.

She blinked, her shoulders loosening. One moment, she’s a grieving Oceanid. The next, she’s a preppy blonde in her checkered skirt and oversized sweater. She gave him a shy smile and a wave as she left.

Once she’s gone, he succumbed to his panic. He slid down the wall, buried his head into his lap and screamed in muffled frustration.


	17. Chapter 17

“Where are these creatures coming from?” Piper shrieked, loping off the head of one particularly vicious pigeon-like bird. Another larger Stymphalian bird swooped down towards her, screeching its death cry. An arrow pierced it before it could hook its talons into her hair.

“Are you done, Leo?!” Frank yelled, notching another arrow against his bow.

Leo’s reply was muffled, his backside sticking out of the truck.

On the other side of the park, Percy, Thalia and Annabeth were trying to herd the harpies together.

Perhaps nine demigods travelling together was too much of a banquet to resist.

“Leo!” Piper yelled.

“Got it!” Leo cried in victory, slamming his fist on the truck hood. Blaring death metal music screamed out of the stereo. The flock of Stymphalian birds squawked in alarm, scattering immediately. On the harpies’ side, Hazel commanded the earth to _move_. They rose up and grabbed onto their scaly feet, while Jason called up a bolt of lightning to strike them.

Frank finally shot down the last of the Stymphalian bird, their bodies hitting the ground with a dull thud and immediately dispersing into golden dust.

“And a victory for the Seven!” Percy whooped.

Thalia coughed pointedly beside him.

“Plus Thalia.” He added hastily. “Who is the most badass.”

Jason raised a brow at him, considering _he’s_ the one who dealt the finishing blow against the harpies. But since it’s his sister, he didn’t argue.

“Oh. Looks like I missed the fun.” Nico suddenly said from beside Hazel, appearing smoothly from her shadow. His expression contradicted his words, bored and uninterested.

“Fuck—” Hazel yelped in surprise, jumping away from him. She glared at him in annoyance, her scowl deepening at his impish smirk.

“You’re back!” Leo exclaimed, bounding up to them. “How’s the search going on?”

“I found him.” Nico said bluntly. There’s a sudden tension that rippled across the group, and he shifted uncomfortably when he looked up to see everyone’s eyes on him. “...But he’s gone.”

“Gone?” Thalia repeated in disbelief.

“Yeah, the motel’s receptionist said that he moved out yesterday night.” Nico said. “Honestly, she blabbed so easily... What if I was a monster in disguise or something?”

“Then she’ll most likely be dead.” Jason said honestly. “Well, he probably hasn’t gone far.”

“He’s alone, probably defenceless.” Frank mulled. “And even if he isn’t defenceless, he’s still on his own. He doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

Percy snorted under his breath. Unarmed or not, even without Kronos’s influence, Luke has never been defenceless.

“There’s also the prophecy.” Piper reminded, thinking back to the prophecy Calypso has sent to Leo via Iris message. She could barely understand what the prophecy meant, but it’s the biggest clue to their manhunt at the moment.  

Percy stifled a groan of irritation at the reminder. Prophecies have been ruining his life ever since he learned of his heritage. He desperately hoped that _this_ time it does not involved him.

“It’s far too much of a coincidence.” Annabeth said. “Jason’s right. Luke couldn’t have gone far.” She turned to Nico. “Where is the motel?”


	18. Chapter 18

He quit his job at the club after his talk with Melite. His boss was _not_ cool with his abrupt decision, but he couldn’t do anything about it anyway. He knew it’s temporary for Luke.

At least he didn’t try to scam Luke out of his salary.

It’s a meagre sum, but he would take what he could get.

He went back to the motel, stuffed his clothes into his backpack, handed the key in at the reception before getting into his beat-up car.

He didn’t know what to do, except to keep on driving.

Abruptly, he was reminded of his mother. It felt like a decade since he last saw her. The Underworld had aged him, and even though he had remained physically twenty-three while dead, his mind was broken over and over again in the Fields of Punishment, until time was a foreign concept.

Her fits frightened him when he was a child, and even as an adult, he couldn’t help but shake when he was forced to visit her to gain her blessing.

He suddenly missed her so much.

Which was why he found himself standing in front of a familiar door. Before he could lose his nerve, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

The woman that greeted him at the doorway looked even _worse_ than the last time he saw her. Her hair was completely white, her back slightly hunched as if her own body had given up on her. Her cheeks were hollowed, her lips cracked and her eyes were red-rimmed and foggy, staring over his shoulder as if she was not quite there.

“Mom.” His voice broke, hurt clenching in his chest.

He spent so many years _angry_ with May Castellan, and had asked himself numerous times if it was possible to love a woman who scared him for his entire childhood. His mother loved him, he knew. She tried so hard to protect him, even when _his_ future shattered her mind.

At his voice, those clouded eyes blinked and focused on him.

“Luke?” She whispered. “Luke? Is that you?”

She broke down crying, loud, harsh sobs that rattled her frail frame. She reached up shakily, cupping her hands around his face.

“My baby boy.” She cried, burying her face against the crook of his neck. Dampness soaked his collar, her shoulders trembling beneath his hands. “My Luke.”

Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her.

* * *

That familiar photo of Hermes was still taped above the sink. The edges were already worn and yellowed, but the sight of that picture unexpectedly brought a sense of relief.

At least that stupid photo was constant.

He still has mixed feelings towards Hermes, and he knew that it won’t be long before he run into his father. But with Kronos hunting him down, it’s not his concern at the moment.

“Luke,” May wobbled out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of peanut butter cookies, burnt cookies and a glass of Kool-Aid. “I made your favourites.”

He gave her a weak smile.

“Thank you.” He picked up the glass of Kool-Aid, feeling out of place. He was estranged from his mother for more than a decade. Now he felt like a complete stranger in front of her.

He wondered if it was Hermes that told her of his death.

“How are you doing?” He asked.

She blinked up at him, surprised. But her surprise faded swiftly, her eyes crinkling in happiness. He tried to ignore how guilty it made him feel.

“I’m feeling better now that you’re back.” She beamed, lucid.

She would forever be damaged, and if Hermes could not even fix her, he’s not going to be hopeful that her brief spell of sanity would remain. But he’s older now, more weary and jaded. He thinks he understand a little bit of her madness now, and he was befuddled at the jarring similarities between the both of them.

He had brought back the madness of the Underworld with him, and they dug deep into his soul like an infection. Maybe he and his mother weren’t that much different after all. They had both tangled with the gods and paid for it. They were paying the price for their hubris, thinking that they could be gods.

For the first time in his life, he relates with his mother.


	19. Chapter 19

Shit hit the fan when Luke ran into a keres just less than five miles away from his mother’s house. The keres was humanoid-shaped and feminine-looking, deathly pale and emaciated, with dripping eyes and stringy hair, leathery bat wings framing her shoulders. Her chest seemed to emit a strange, wheezing sound every time she breathed out.

She was fast, but he was faster. He kept on the defence though, cautious of her poisonous nails.

He knew he has to get rid of the keres before their battle started to attract more monsters. The thought of any of these monsters being so near his mother made his blood turned to ice.

He spun his blade in his hand and stabbed the keres in her neck. The monster gurgled gold and faltered, and he sliced off her head.

Lying to May Castallan, admittedly, was not easy.

He told her that he couldn’t stay, but it’s not the last time they were going to see each other. He has something important to do, and it’d be unsafe for her if he lingered around. He thought he saw her eyes smouldered an eerie green as she stared at him.

He fought the urge to flinch away, but her eyes were back to its usual murky blue. He tried to convince himself that it’s just a trick of the light, but knew that he’s in denial. His mother’s insanity wouldn’t just go away that easily.

“I’ll be back.” He said solemnly. He bended down to her height, then paused nervously. Mustering his courage, he kissed her tenderly on her forehead. “I’ll come home after everything is over.”

“Stay safe, Luke.” May stammered, clutching his hand tightly. “No matter what, okay? Promise me.”

His smile was faint. “I promise.”

He did not swear on the Styx.

* * *

Predictably, trouble came for him immediately after he left his mother’s city.

Deimos and Phobos were poor swordsmen, and quickly fall in a swordfight. But their powers more than make up for their lack of proficiency.

Luke found himself unarmed and on his knees, Deimos’s muscular arms pinning his hands back.

“Even the dead have fears.” Phobos grinned down at him. “And _you_ , Luke Castellan, should not be wandering around the living world after your death.”

He didn’t notice the fear at first. He has been drenched in fear ever since Kronos had make himself known in his dreams, that the chill seeping into his bones took a while for him to register. It was slow and creeping, paralysing his movement and stilling his struggles in Deimos’s arms, until it slammed into him abruptly.

He saw Kronos’s molten eyes in the darkness and he screamed. Terror seized his heart, and he was frozen as he stared into death. The fear was overwhelming, so intense it snatched the breath from his lungs. He didn’t know how long he drowned in that darkness. It might have been days and months or even just seconds, but he felt the connection between his sanity and his mind teetering on the cliff of snapping.

 _“Enough!”_ A voice roared.

The darkness receded instantly.

Deimos released him, and he collapsed limply, only to be caught by a pair of strong arms. He stared at Hermes in confusion, tears blurring his vision. Was Phobos’s stupid ability the final nail in the coffin? Has the god of fear finally managed to drive Luke insane until he has started hallucinating?

“Begone, the both of you!” Hermes ordered angrily, his blue eyes steely cold.

Phobos’s fiery eyes burned like wildfire, but he backed down obediently.

“You have caused an uproar in Olympus, my son.” Hermes’s voice gentled as he looked down at him in worry. “There’s many people looking for you as we speak.”

“To kill me, right?” He said rhetorically, not caring if it sounded disrespectful because this was just a hallucination, right?

Hermes would never be here. He never has.

Even when he’s scared, cowering in a cupboard because of his mother’s fits. Even when he’s lost and furious with the world, with everyone, with himself the most of all. Even when he’s desperate and needed a father.

He tried to stay awake, but he’s too tired. Phobos had messed his head up, and he’s all worn out. He frantically fought against the thrall of exhaustion, the fear of seeing Kronos making him struggled weakly in Hermes’s grip.

“Calm down, Luke.” Hermes whispered, and those hands on him felt so _real_.

No, that couldn’t be true. Hermes is just an illusion his mind had made up. No, he can’t sleep. He’s not safe yet...

* * *

They had managed to track the trail all the way to May Castallan’s house. Jason had peered into the window, his eyes softening at the humming woman pottering around her house.

“He definitely came here.” Piper murmured.

Percy had not wanted to bother the woman, claiming that it’s better if she stayed away from them. Seeing them might triggered an attack. Perhaps she’ll be safer without being disturbed by their world. He said all that with guilt in his eyes, suddenly looking a hundred years old.

Jason’s heart ached looking at him.

“Ah,” There was a soft flutter of wings flapping. “I see that all of you have managed to catch up.”

“Lord Hermes!” Thalia exclaimed in surprise, nearly tripping over her own feet at his sudden appearance next to her. Her spluttering abruptly cut off when she noticed the burden in the god’s arms. Pale, trembling, _alive_ , Luke was unconscious in Hermes’s arms.

“Is that...?” Jason breathed, studying the young man’s face.

Sandy blond hair, scar below the eye, and the same elfish features like his father. He wondered if Luke has his mother’s baby blue eyes or his godly father’s bright azure blue eyes.

“Luke.” Annabeth gasped.

“It’s time to go home, children.” Hermes smiled brightly, narrowing his eyes playfully at them. Before anyone could react, they were instantly transported to Camp Half-Blood.

“What the fuck.” Percy cursed in surprise, disorientated by the sudden teleportation.

“This is convenient.” Leo muttered.

There’s the sound of galloping, before Chiron appeared. His gaze flew across the group, before stopping on Hermes.

“Lord Hermes!” He greeted, faltering when he spotted Luke. “What is the meaning of this?”

Hermes tried to shrug, but stopped immediately when Luke moaned in his arms. He gave Chiron an almost apologetic look.

“Would love to talk, but I need someone to look at my son.” He said. His tone was casual, but there was a hardness in his eyes that refused to accept anything but compliance.

“I’ll call for Will.” Chiron sighed. “Please follow me, Lord Hermes.”

This was going to give Dionysus an aneurysm when he finds out. Chiron does not relish being around when that happens. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that Phobos’s power would have an extreme effect on Luke. And let's face it, Kronos is a fucking scary motherfucker.


	20. Chapter 20

_“Do you think you’re safe now? Do you think you’ve escaped from my wrath?!” To his horror, Kronos’s body seemed... more solid than he ever was in all his previous dreams. Although his body looked more like smoke than the more humanoid forms he took on before, there’s a sense of presence that told Luke that Kronos was getting closer to his goal._

_“You’ll pay for your betrayal!” Hands that looked like wisps of smoke, but felt painfully solid and real, encircled his throat. “I’ll take your heart and keep you alive. I’ll leave you for last and burn down all you love.”_

_The hands squeezed, tightening around his throat. The pressure remained unyielding as he clawed at those hands. He was running out of air, his throat threatening to collapse under the force. He needed to wake up before Kronos choked him to death._

_He kicked and writhed and mouthed wordlessly for help, but Kronos refused to budge._

_“Luke!”_

_His struggles weakened, dots of black appearing in his vision._

_“Luke, wake up!”_

 

His eyes flew open in terror and he gasped desperately for air, clawing at his throat. A vaguely familiar-looking blonde was trying to pin his hands down, calling for help.

The door slammed open, and a shorter dark-haired boy ran in, poised to battle.

He took one look at the situation and reacted immediately. He grabbed Luke’s shoulders, holding him down. The combined effort of both boys managed to wore him down from his panicking.

“Is he okay now?” The dark-haired boy asked.

“He can answer for himself.” Luke interjected in mild irritation. He regretted speaking immediately as his throat flared up in pain. Even half-conscious, he could hear how hoarse and terrible his voice sounded.

They both looked down at him, and then their expressions filled with horror.

“Was that there before?” The dark-haired boy demanded. He looked straight at the blonde, ignoring him, much to his chagrin.

“No…” The blonde exclaimed. “Definitely not.”

He pressed his fingers against Luke’s throat experimentally, apologizing frantically when he yelped at the touch.

“This is not normal.” The blonde muttered to himself. “I was here the whole time with him. Where did this come from?”

“I’m going to get Chiron.” The dark-haired boy stated, rushing out of the room.

The name sparked a memory in Luke’s head. He felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, and he tried to raise his hand to brace against his forehead, but his arms felt like jelly after the intense nightmare.

“Let me help.” The blonde wrapped an arm around his waist, supporting his back as he sat up groggily. “Do you remember me?”

He stared at the other blonde, squinting unsurely. Golden bright wavy hair hung over sky blue eyes, more freckles than he could count scattered over his tanned skin. He looked older here than in his memory, and this was definitely Apollo’s features looking back at him.

“Will Solace?” He rasped.

The younger boy brightened and nodded eagerly, looking pleased that he was recognized.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions. Your throat is going to hurt, so if it’s too much, just shake or nod your head.” Will instructed.

Luke narrowed his eyes at him in bewilderment. The fogginess over his head was lifting, and he was starting to register the room he’s in. He had been in here countless times in the past to not remember where he is.

And what’s wrong with his throat?

The last thing he remembered was fighting Deimos and Phobos.

“Throat?” He questioned.

He was starting to hate that uncertainty on Will’s face.

“Give me a moment.” Will said.

Luke watched him rummaging around the room in perplexment, before the younger blonde came back with a small mirror. He stared at his reflection and understood immediately why they had looked so horrified.

His neck was starting to bruise. It’s an ugly bright red encompassing his whole throat, which explained why he felt like shit. The fingerprints stood out starkly against the sides of his neck, phantom hands that attempted to strangle him in his dream.

“Oh.” He suddenly remembered his nightmare.

The door opened and Chiron came in, the small dark-haired boy following behind.

“You’re awake, Luke.” Chiron greeted.

He grimaced at the centaur’s solemn expression, and his shoulders hunched in guilt and slight fear. After what he has done, he does not expect any kindness from anyone. If Chiron chose to deliver him straight back to the gods, he won’t be surprised.

“We need to talk.” Chiron said. He must have seen the trepidation on Luke’s face, as his face softened. He was looking at Luke’s throat in undisguised concern, glancing at Will for explanation.

Will shook his head in confusion.

“Tell me what’s going on, Luke.” Chiron said firmly.


	21. Chapter 21

Chiron took the news of Kronos choking Luke in his dream quite calmly, or as calmly as he managed to look. Luke has never been able to properly read the centaur’s expressions.

He sent Will and the other boy, Nico, out of the room. Luke nearly called Will back. At least the Son of Apollo was a familiar face.

“Your father is here, Luke.” He informed.

Luke flinched violently in surprise.

“So he was really there?” He rasped. He remembered Hermes intervening, but had thought that it was just a hallucination.

“He needs to speak to you.” Chiron said gently.

He tried to swallow, but the act sent a spike of agony up his throat. He’s really not equipped to handle meeting both of his parents in a single week. He wanted to stave off the meeting, but it felt cowardly. He steeled himself and nodded weakly.

Chiron squeezed his shoulder and opened the door.

Hermes must have been waiting outside, until he could be admitted into the room. He walked in hesitantly at first, before he straightened up and become more confident.

“Do you need me to leave?” Chiron asked.

“No,” Hermes said. “I think you need to hear this as well.”

Then he headed straight to Luke, his bright blue eyes sorrowful as he studied his son. Luke tried to shove down the shiver of fear when the god reached towards his neck.

“Is it Kronos?” Hermes asked. He glanced at Chiron for confirmation.

When Chiron nodded sharply, his eyes goes cold. He pursed his lips and turned back to Luke.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked.

Luke hated the concern he hears in Hermes’s voice. He wanted to be stubborn, to ignore the god, but he’s just so tired.

“Not so much anymore.” He answered, averting his gaze. Will had eased the pain and soreness with his healing. He didn’t require a brace, but his throat was still wrapped with bandages to prevent infection.

“I’m sorry, Luke.” Hermes apologised. “I wasn’t aware of your punishment. I thought that you intended to try for rebirth.” He was, right until the three judges presented a list of his crimes and he was confronted with the severity of all he had done. He doesn’t deserve reincarnation, to forget his crimes and wash them off his hands without doing penance. “I should have checked up on you. I should have been there.”

 _No, you shouldn’t._ God or not, Hermes’s intervention wouldn’t have change his mind _._

Hermes must have seen the resolve in his eyes, because he sighed and pulled his hand back. His eyes, bright azure like his son’s, darkened with grief.

“I’m here to inform all of you,” Hermes said gravely. “That Hades has gone missing.”

His head jerked up in shock. Chiron sucked in a startled breath.

“The Underworld is in chaos now.” Hermes continued. “Monsters are appearing more frequently across the world. Kronos is currently still imprisoned, but he’s trying to use you as a gateway to renter this world, Luke.”

“How is that possible?” Chiron demanded.

Luke felt numb, cold sweat breaking across his temples. _Of fucking course._ Of course Kronos was trying to escape using him. His entire existence revolved around a god damn prophecy that ordained his fate since birth. He went chasing after Hermes for explanations, determined to know his future, and let his own anger and bitterness overwhelmed him when his father failed to raise to his expectations. Kronos had not done anything to him. He was the damn fool stupid enough to let his fury ruled him and turned all he loved into ashes in his hands. He died trying to burn the world down, _setting things right_. He doesn’t know if he’s more furious at a stupid prophecy dictating his life, or at himself.

“A fragment of Kronos’s essence exists inside you, Luke.” Hermes said stonily. His face looked like it was carved straight from marble, beautiful and cold. “When you killed yourself, scattering Kronos’s essence, a tiny piece remains inside of you.”

“And Kronos is using that piece to gain entry into the living world.” Chiron deduced.

“How do I get it out?” He said flatly.

He’s sick of seeing the look of pity on Hermes’s face.

 _“How?”_ He hissed.

“We don’t know.” Hermes said quietly. “It has latched onto your soul. Trying to get it out might destroy your soul.” He paused, regret flickering in his eyes again. “Your time in the Fields of Punishment had scarred your soul irreparably, and Kronos feeds on darkness and misery. However, it had remained dormant the entire time in the Underworld. When you were dragged into the living world, it seems to jumpstart the... poisoning.”

His stomach clenched, his heart sinking at the sudden awareness that had seized him.

“So what?” He feigned calmness. “This means my soul has to be destroyed to get rid of that fragment and stopped Kronos’s attempt in coming into the living world, right?”

“Wait, Luke,” Chiron straightened in alarm.

“Yes,” Hermes interrupted, lips tight. Well, at least his father could be trusted to bulldoze through the niceties. “But Kronos can simply find another way to renter this world.”

“But it will delay him, right?” He retorted, not quite sure if the heat slowly building up in his chest was anger or desperation. “He’s clearly trying to create a body for himself. That’s why Hades and Oceanus are missing right now.” Chiron looked stupefied at the mention of Oceanus. The poor centaur; he must be severely confused now. “If we stop him here, delay him from making his move, buy some time—then maybe the gods can find a way to completely seal him up.”

Tartarus was famed as an impregnable prison, housing the worst of the worst, a place of nightmares that even gods and monsters dared not trend, but yet no one have found a damn solution that would completely seal Kronos in the past thousands of years? It’s so ridiculous that Luke nearly laughed.

“That is out of the question, Luke.” Hermes narrowed his eyes. “We’re not sacrificing your life just to buy some time.”

 _“Why not?”_ He burst out, the fire in his chest exploding. “It’s the best choice right now, isn’t it? My life has always been dictated by fate to die for the gods. You didn’t even try to do anything back then, so why do you care so much now?”

He didn’t even realize he had stood up, his entire body trembling.

“My life is _over_!” Hermes was standing up too, his face pale with shock. “I’m a dead man, and I’m trying, _trying_ so hard to repent for my mistakes. I make myself out to be some sort of self-sacrificing hero that gave up Elysium to save the others, but in reality, what right do I have to _forget_? What right do I have to move on and act like nothing had happened?”

“Sacrificing your life is not the way to repent for your mistakes.” Hermes said, the heartbreak evident on his face.

“Of course it isn’t!” He let out a hysterical laugh. “Of course the Underworld is not enough for me! Do you not understand yet, _Dad_?” He spat out the title like it’s a curse. “I wanted to be _nothing_!”

Mortals always thought that the perfect afterlife would be one filled with everlasting peace, an eternality with your loved ones. Paradise. If he’s a mortal, he’d be the cynical one that believed nothing exists after death.

Even after everything was over, he was still haunted by his mistakes and failures. Rather than the physical pain inflicted on him in the Fields of Punishment, it was the mental ones that refused to let go of him.

“I don’t want this to be the way it ends.” He whispered, defeated. “To be controlled by Kronos again.” He looked up pleadingly. “If you have to, destroy my soul. Perhaps it’s better for us all.”


	22. Chapter 22

“If you didn’t look like such crap, I’d punch you.” The door swung close behind his visitor.

He inhaled a shaky breath and looked up. Annabeth had visited first, and the girl had broken down crying upon seeing him. She had embraced him, cursing profanities and threats into his shoulder. He almost didn’t notice Percy shuffling into the room.

He hadn’t known what to say to the boy—now a young man. Percy had been so young when Luke betrayed the camp, and they hadn’t had as much time as Annabeth and Luke have knowing each other. Percy had watched him steadily with a hint of caution, awkward and hesitant.

“Hi, Thalia.” He breathed.

The immortal girl tried to scowl, but her bottom lip quivered. Her eyes remained hard, despite the light sheen in them.

“I should kill you.” She hissed, but she didn’t make any move to attack. “I should send you back to the Underworld. How could you, how _dare_ you to even come back—”

 _She should, she should._ But he didn’t say that out loud. If there’s anyone he would willingly bare his throat out to a blade, it would be Thalia Grace.

He took her verbal abuse silently, knowing that he more than deserved her derision. He’s not going to apologize, because it meant nothing. She’d more than likely hit him for even attempting to try.

She finally ran out of steam, closing her eyes briefly in pain. She slumped into the chair next to the bed, exhausted.

“I hate you so much.” She whispered. “After your death, I thought that I could finally have peace.” Ouch, she really does not know how to hold back when it comes to him. He tried to mask the hurt on his face, but he has never been good at keeping his composure. “It’s not that I wanted you dead. I just thought... thought that you’ve moved on, that _I_ could move on as well. I didn’t want to spent the rest of my life regretting and mourning you. I already wasted so much.”

“I understand.” He said quietly.

She inhaled sharply, leaning forward to clasp his hand. He could feel the minute tremble in her fingers, wanting to hold tight but not daring to. It startled him, as Thalia Grace was never a girl to hesitate, or falter, even if she’s facing the best friend who had betrayed her. She would charge forward with her shield and spear, called down lightning to stop him.

He always loved that part about her.

He had half a mind to turn his hand and wrapped his fingers around hers, but has a feeling she would not appreciate it, so he kept still and quietly soaked in the warmth from her hand instead.

He has been running for so long. For a moment, it’s like nothing changed. They were still homeless kids on the run from monsters, clinging to each other for protection and safely. Before Annabeth came, the only one he ever had was her.

Even with Chiron, or Annabeth, or Percy, he still felt like a livewire, his nerves jittery with a dull panic and terror at the back of his head. Until... Until Thalia came.

He wasn’t aware he was even so taut before, as all the stiffness instantly slipped away from his shoulders at the sight of her.

It’s funny he could only feel safe with Thalia, even when she’s threatening to kill him. But then again, Thalia Grace has always been special.

“You get some rest.” She said. “You looked like the living dead.” She winced immediately at how tactless she sounded. “Shit, that was insensitive, right?”

He merely smiled wanly at her.

“Well,” She coughed uncomfortably, standing up. “I’ll just... go now.”

The doors closed behind her, leaving him alone in the silent room. He looked around, thought of slipping out of bed and escaping Camp Half-Blood. He chucked the notion aside immediately, and decided to lay back down on his bed instead, staring at the peeling ceiling. There’s probably a legion of monsters and gods outside Camp Half-Blood that’s baying for his blood.

 _It feels good to be this popular though_ , he thought sarcastically _._

Exhaustion prodded at his mind, and he could feel the effects on his body. But the fear of seeing Kronos in his dreams kept him awake, and he resigned to spending the next couple of hours staring dazedly at the white paint on the ceiling.


	23. Chapter 23

“Hades is missing, and chaos is rampaging throughout the Underworld. Thanatos’s arms are full in trying to keep order.” Hermes said solemnly. Even since he heard that Oceanus was missing as well, lines had etched deep into his youthful face. At least it explained why Poseidon had been so hard to get in contact with recently.

He briefly wondered how his son had even known of that, when he, the god of messengers, doesn’t, but didn’t dare to question Luke any further. After his son’s outburst, he had retreated like a craven, leaving any necessary interactions to Chiron.

“There’s been some strange monster activity in Los Angeles. The Mist... does not seems to be working for us gods.” He said.

“What do you mean by that?” Piper asked, befuddled.

“None of us gods are able to go near that city at the moment. The Mist fails to hide our... godly attributes every time we stepped into Los Angeles.” Hermes explained. “As we learned when Ares tried to enter to investigate...”

The demigods in the room winced collectively.

“So, I guess you’re asking us to take a trip to Los Angeles?” Percy said in resignation. Another quest to save the world? How unsurprising.

“And find out where Hades is.” Hermes’s face darkened. “Or _who_ has taken him.”

“I’m coming as well.” A voice, hoarse but strong, made the whole room jumped.

Luke stood at the doorway, giving Hermes a defiant stare. His eyes, bright blue like his father’s, burned in indignation that he was left out of this discussion. He knew that Hermes was trying to keep him out of this fight, and it made him regretted his earlier outburst. His father probably thinks him suicidal.

“Kronos is after you.” Hermes said tersely. “The moment you stepped out of Camp Half-Blood, you’ll start attracting monsters.”

Luke stared at him as if he’s speaking a foreign language. _I might as well be_ , Hermes thought bitterly. No matter how hard he tried to save or understand his son, they would never be able to comprehend each other. For a second, he envied Apollo and his relationship with his kids. The sun god never seemed to have any particularly hard time with any of them.

“I managed to survive on my own long enough.” Luke answered. “If he wants to find me this badly, then I’ll go straight to him.”

Oh, the wilfulness of children!

The other demigods were watching both of them like they were a rather riveting tennis game. Hermes ignored them in favour for his stubborn child.

“Do you want to die that much?” He nearly yelled. Hermes might be more carefree than the other gods, but even he has a temper. He could never understand his ceaseless tolerance for Luke. Maybe a huge part of it was due to his guilt for causing May’s insanity.

“That’s not up to me anymore, isn’t it?” Luke countered, narrowing his eyes. He had forced Chiron and Hermes to keep the revelation of Kronos’s piece in his soul quiet. He didn’t think it was important for Thalia and everyone else to know.

“I’m going to Los Angeles.” Luke said deliberately. “With or without your permission.”

Hermes furiously bit back the retort that he still looked too weak. That would not win any points with Luke, no matter how true that is. It’s not only Kronos’s piece that he had brought back to the living world, it seemed that a part of the Underworld had followed him as well. There’s a permanently wild look in those blue eyes, and it reminded him eerily of May. The wrath that had dogged Luke’s steps in his first life seemed to have fade, just a lingering fury that clouded the biting words and sharp tongue. The bruises around his throat had started to heal, but the yellow and purple stains made his skin looked ghostly pale. He looked like a slight breeze could blow him straight over.

When Hermes didn’t reply, Luke turned and left the room.

“Um, Lord Hermes?” Annabeth coughed to break the tension.

He glared at these children, whose hands he has to put his son’s life in. Every second he’s here increased the possibility of Zeus finding out Luke’s whereabouts. Zeus might be busy trying to deal with Kronos’s army of monsters at the moment, but he might just be spiteful enough to send a lightning bolt at Luke.

“Watch out for that idiot son of mine.” He said simply, before vanishing back to Olympus.


	24. Chapter 24

“I cannot in good conscience let you go when you’re not healed yet!” Will exclaimed in exasperation. Gods, he has forgotten how stubborn and difficult Luke used to be. To any healer, he’s the worst sort of patient. He kept quiet about his injuries, tried to leave the infirmary before he’s completely healed, refused to rest while recuperating. Anyone would have an aneurysm dealing with Luke.

“I’m _fine_.” Luke sighed. There’s a high chance of him dying in Los Angeles anyway. He sees no point in healing him and then sending him off to his death. He didn’t say that to Will though. The Son of Apollo doesn’t need more ammunition to make him stay.

“ _Luke_.” Will scowled, folding his arms across his chest and giving him his best Head Counsellor and Head Healer glare.

If Luke hadn’t already been subjected to enough Kronos’s deadly glares to last him for three lifetimes. Compared to the Titan King, Will Solace looked like a puppy trying to intimidate him.

“I’ll find a way to escape. You know I will.” He warned.

Will’s brows furrowed in annoyance, because _yes_ he does remember that. No matter what he does, Luke always managed to escape.

“No strenuous activity.” He reminded sternly. “And you need to eat. You’re suffering from mild malnutrition.” Luke’s weight was dangerously low for a young man his height and age, and it _worried_ him. “I know you have nightmares... but you need to sleep. I’m going to give you some vitamins. You _need_ to take them.”

He’s still conflicted about Luke. The Apollo cabin had lost many of their own during the Titan War, but he knew that Luke was not to blame. If it’s anyone Will was furious at, it’s Kronos. Luke was just one of the many bitter demigods around, unfortunate enough to have caught Kronos’s eye. If not Luke, someone else would have been chosen. The war had been practically written in the stars, with or without Luke.

It just hurts that it happened to someone familiar for most of his life.

Whatever conflicted feelings he might have, he’s still a healer first and foremost, and Luke’s condition was a nightmare to any medical practitioner.

“I’m serious, Luke.” He said cautiously. “I’m not sure how you’re still conscious and walking around, but your body is seriously deprived of rest.”

“I can’t sleep.” Luke replied roughly.

The last time he slept, he woke up with bruises around his throat. Will wasn’t terribly surprised by his aversion to sleep.

“If... If I get Clovis here, do you think he might be able to help?” He asked.

“No, it’s okay.” Luke smiled. It’s a mere, sad shade of his impish smiles, but Will feels a little relieved at the sight of it. When Chiron first barged into his cabin, with Hermes following behind, he nearly couldn’t recognize Luke.

He’s a far cry from that quick-witted, cheeky boy that the Hermes kids all looked up to.

Will had been afraid that Kronos had utterly destroyed him.

“If I beg,” He sighed tiredly. “Would you at least rest for a few hours?” He glimpsed Luke’s frown, and added, “I promise you that Los Angeles is not going to pack up and leave while you delayed your departure for a day.”

“No need to beg.” Luke grinned slightly. “I’ll rest.”

Will doubted him, humming incredulously but did not say anything else. He knew that Luke’s tired of avoiding sleep as well, so before he left the room, he trailed his fingers over Luke’s nape casually. Hopefully, it’ll help to ease the older boy’s sleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Argo the Third was Leo and the Hephaestus cabin’s baby. It was designed to be smaller than its predecessor, and as a result, move faster due to its compact size. After Argo II was destroyed, Leo had been rebuilding a similar ship with the same design. In an attempt to make the ship as close in design as possible to Argo II, he had painstakingly sought for the ingredients to fuel up the ship. He even added in a figurehead that looked remarkably like Festus.

On any other day, Luke could appreciate the beauty and mechanics of the ship, but all he cared at the moment was whether Argo the Third could take them to Los Angeles quick enough before the whole city was consumed.

He was currently perched beside the masthead, legs dangling out. The waters swirled deep and dark beneath the ship, rippling danger with every wave. He was reminded intensely that he had once tried to kill Percy many times, and that Poseidon probably doesn’t like him very much.

 _Come get me,_ he thought recklessly, staring into the deep blue waters. Coincidence or not, a swell of water suddenly crashed against the side of the ship, nearly overbalancing him. Something crested under the water, just below his swinging feet, choking out foam across the surface. He almost expected a hand to burst out from the water and grabbed his foot. He has always been uneasy of Percy’s strength, the magnitude of that vast power scaring him even when the other boy was still a kid. Now nearly a man, he wondered how strong Percy have become.

Could Percy pull water from the air to drown him on land?

Maybe it would be something familiar, to drown as water filled his lungs. Under Kronos’s _tender_ care in his dreams, he has been drowned over and over again. It couldn’t be that much different.

Kronos had taken sadistic delight in finding multiple ways to kill him in his dreams. Over and over and over again. He now knew how it feels like to die by fire, to be beaten to death, to feel poison eroding him from the inside out, to feel a bullet burst through his skull, to drown under Kronos’s devastating aura...

He’s best friends with Death by now—not that he wanted to be friendly with Thanatos at all. That guy creeped him out.

Another strong wave rode up against the side of the ship, splashing his ankles. He glanced longingly at the dark waters. For one crazy moment, his hands on the rails loosened. He suddenly felt heady and floaty, like he’s light enough to float off the ship and vanished into the sky. He felt the familiar rush of exhilaration in his veins, his body recognizing the danger he’s in before he was made aware of his perilous position.

“Luke?” A hand darted out of the darkness to seize his wrist.

He blinked back to reality, turning slightly to glance at the worried-looking girl standing behind him. The Daughter of Pluto squinted at him, caution and anxiety lurking behind those golden eyes.

The first time he saw those gold eyes in the middle of nowhere in Manchester, his first thought was _Kronos_. But he wasn’t frightened, because Hazel’s eyes were warm and gentle, unlike the Titan King’s malevolent glare. Kronos’s stare was vicious enough to peel paint, or shrivel up someone’s blood. Whatever metaphors works, because Kronos was too terrifying to even describe.

“Yes?” He cleared his throat, blinking slowly at her.

He saw her glanced at the sea nervously, then back at him. It took a few seconds before he realized that she was worried that he’s going to fall right into the sea. Right, better not tell her where his mind had drifted off to before she came to interrupt his reverie.

“I’m here to take over the watch.” Hazel reminded, gesturing at the watch on her wrist.

Annabeth had protested loudly at first when he offered to take first watch, but he had eventually won. He’s sick of being confined in a room, and everyone else was still uneasy around him. He wanted to be alone, far from everyone.

“Okay.” He replied, but he did not move. “I hope you don’t mind me hanging around. I can’t sleep.”

Hazel’s frown deepened, and he looked back towards the sea so he couldn’t ponder too much on what it means. He’s not here to make friends, nor get anyone’s acceptance. The only people on this ship that he remotely cared for doesn’t even trust him.

He felt a shuffle of movement behind him, before Hazel was climbing up the railing and balancing herself next to him.

“What are you doing?” He asked, giving her a bewildered stare.

“Enjoying the sea view.” Hazel said frankly. “I hope you don’t mind me hanging around.”

His lips twitched, and he ducked his head.

“Yeah,” He breathed. “Do whatever you want.”

There was a short silence that was almost peaceful. Before his mind could wander, Hazel inhaled sharply and started talking.

“You know, Annabeth and Thalia are really worried about you.” She said. “I don’t know much about your history with them, but Annabeth told me that you and Thalia basically raised her.”

He’s not quite sure where she’s going with this.

“Annabeth cried when I told her I ran into you.” Hazel said quietly. “She was so relieved and happy.”

His breath seized in his chest. He did not dare to look at her.

“I... I don’t know Thalia well. But she insisted on coming along to find you.” She continued. “I’m not sure about the rules for the Hunters, but I doubt Artemis is the sort of goddess that would allow her Hunters to abandon their duty to search for one boy.”

He remained silent.

“Why are you avoiding them?” Hazel asked softly.

A breath shuddered through his chest. “Do you know my story?”

“I know enough.” She replied, hesitant.

“But not enough.” He scoffed, bitter hatred darkening his eyes. “Do you know I poisoned Thalia’s tree? Do you know I tricked Annabeth into carrying the sky? I loved both of them so much... They were my only family for the longest time, and yet I can still betray and hurt them.”

“And you think you’re not punished enough?” Hazel demanded. “I heard from Nico. He said you gave up your chance for Elysium. I think you’ve paid for your sins long enough.”

He stifled the bitter laugh trying to crawl its way up his throat.

“Enough?” He questioned. He’s tired of that word. He almost pitied Hazel’s naivety. It’s as if people thinks he did it because he’s selfless. “If it’s enough, nobody would be dead.”

“You’re not responsible for the deaths of the other demigods that followed you.” Hazel’s voice was suddenly calm again, almost disturbing in its sureness. “They made their choice, and most like you, realized that they have gone too far and tried to make things right. You were a mere pawn to Kronos. He used you to wage war. Without you, someone else would have been chosen. People would still die in the war.” Her face flickered strangely, her golden eyes fierce as she turned to look at him. “They manipulated and forced us to do their bidding, tried to use us as sacrifices to raise back to life.”

Suddenly, he has a feeling that she’s not just talking about him. She must have gone through some shit with the gods or titans as well.

“Life’s too short to be avoiding your loved ones.” She said seriously. “You may be scared—” He wanted to protest immediately at that. He’s _not_ scared of Annabeth and Thalia. “But have you ever thought that they may be scared too?”

 _Of course they would_ , he thought bitterly. He tried to kill them before after all. He swiftly squashed those self-deprecating thoughts, knowing that Hazel was trying to make a point.

“How are you so wise?” He asked, a slight smile teasing at the edge of his lips.

“Well,” Hazel smiled cheekily. “I’m usually surrounded by idiots.”

He snorted.

Maybe he’d try to take Hazel’s advice. He might die tomorrow after all.


	26. Chapter 26

Luke has only been to California a couple of times, although he has never really had the time to enjoy the sights, but there’s a peculiar heaviness in the air that they could feel even miles away from Los Angeles.

There’s a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t get rid. He’s not the only one feeling this way though. The other demigods were restless, studying the horizon with anxiety. They hadn’t been hit by any monsters, except for a swarm of venti, and the peacefulness struck him as all sorts of _wrong_.

“This is really strange.” Thalia muttered. “We’re barely five miles from Los Angeles, but we haven’t been attacked yet.”

“There’s like ten demigods on board.” Percy agreed. “We should be smelling like a buffet.”

Luke didn’t answer, just absently rubbed the cold metal of Avon between his fingers. Other than the tightness in his chest, he’s all calm. And he’s steadily getting calmer the nearer they got, in spite of the increasing wrongness in the atmosphere. His instincts were screaming at him, but his heartbeats were steady.

He’s marching to his death, and he might face Kronos, and Phobos’s power had showed him what’s his greatest fear. The thought of meeting Kronos face-to-face scared him beyond belief, but he’s not afraid of death.

He has survived the Underworld once.

“So, where are we heading to?” Percy asked.

“The area with the biggest concentration of monsters.” He replied easily.

Percy grimaced, _“Of course we are.”_

* * *

The few times he has been to Los Angeles, the streets were typically packed with people and the roads full of vehicles. It’s a jarring sight to see the whole city engulfed in silence.

“Okay, where did everyone go?” Jason frowned, glaring at an innocent traffic pole, as if it’s going to grow legs and fangs and lunged at them.

“Something’s wrong with the Mist.” Hazel commented.

A couple suddenly appeared from around the corner, startling the group. Thalia grabbed Luke’s arm and pulled him back. The couple continued walking, linking arms with each other as they walked past. They didn’t seem to notice the demigods at all, nearly running Piper down, their gazes going through her as if she’s invisible.

“Whoa,” Leo blurted, steadying Piper. “What the fuck?”

Luke peered into one of the stores. He noticed the salesgirl leaning against the cashier, adsorbed in her phone.

“They’re not missing.” He murmured. “They’re still around.”

“They are all just going through the motions.” Nico observed. “It’s like they are not all... _here_.”

“It must be the Mist.” Thalia said, running her fingers through her dark hair in frustration. “We need to find the culprit who did this.”

“Well, how are we going to do that?” Percy asked. “It’s like all the monsters have disappeared.”

There’s a sudden roar that shattered the silence. A long, serpentine body crashed through the building in front of them, and they ducked for safely as debris and glass flew towards their direction. The mortals didn’t even look up, or react.

“A _dragon_?” Annabeth gasped.

As if it had heard her, the huge head swivelled towards her. The eyes were the fiery red of Hades, serrated teeth dripping saliva onto the pavement below.

“Shit! We have to get the mortals out of here!” Frank yelled, jumping forward to knock a young woman out of the way.

The dragon lumbered forward, bellowing into the sky as its huge black wings started to flap. The gusts of wind were strong enough to push them back.

“On to it!” Hazel shouted. She dodged the wayward tail and dashed forward towards a family lingering outside a café. The dragon’s gaze followed her menacingly, opening its jaws to release a breath of fire at the mortals. Hazel’s hand shoots out, and the ground collapsed beneath the family of three. The parents and child stumbled and fell, and the flames decimated the café behind them. Hazel vanished abruptly, before appearing beside the child. The Mist swirled around her and the family, taking them away to safely.

“You just have to say it!” Jason yelled at the Son of Poseidon.

“Hey!” Percy objected, offended. “We need to find a monster to interrogate anyway!”

Jason rolled his eyes, flying out of the way from a blast of fire. He surged forward and sunk his gladius into the dragon’s long neck.

“Unless you can speak dragon-talk, why don’t you try asking it where’s Kronos then!” He shouted.

“Stop fighting!” Nico snapped at the both of them. He opened a fissure beneath the dragon’s feet, trapping its legs between the earth.

 _Monsters,_ Luke thought. Children of the Big Three were really far supreme to other demigods. The three young men were causing far more damage than the dragon itself.

“Hey, guys...” Leo giggled nervously, flames spluttering around his hands.

Monsters were coming out of the woodwork, edging towards them. It’s like Percy’s words had sparked a fury, summoning all these monsters from nowhere.

“Holy Hera.” Piper cursed.

Annabeth backed against him, clutching her Drakon bone sword in her hands tightly. Thalia sighed and summoned her spear. Frank notched an arrow against his bow, guarding their flank. Avon was a steady weight in his hand as he slipped into a battle stance.

A distance away, the dragon rampaged through the streets of Los Angeles, distracted by the three demigods attacking it without mercy. Maybe they’ll finish this fight before Jason, Nico and Percy do.


	27. Chapter 27

The lack of rest and food were really wearing at his stamina. He has been fighting for barely five minutes, but his muscles were already screaming at him to slow down.

He narrowly dodged a slash from a Fury, opening up its stomach with his blade. He immediately spun around, blocking a blow from an ogre. A slimy green drop of saliva dripped dangerously near his face, before he kicked out and tossed the ogre back. He swiftly regained his balance and flung his body forward, using his momentum to push Avon into its chest.

A wave of dizziness washed over him and he swayed on the spot, spinning just in time to duck under another ogre’s fist. He stumbled, his vision blacking out for a split second. The fist caught him in the gut and threw him several feet away.

“Luke!” Thalia yelled. Lightning arched over her body, and _wow_ , she looked like a storm goddess, decimating monsters left and right with her spear. However, she was too far away and Avon laid alone three feet away.

Another voice shouted his name, and then the ogre exploded into a flurry of blood and guts. Water flow from the massive hole in the ogre’s chest.

“Time to go, kiddies.” A familiar voice called out. An arm wrapped around Luke’s waist, hurling him up. He was, unfortunately, still feeling lightheaded and stumbled into a hard chest.

“I didn’t know you miss me that much.” Avon—no, Alpheus, teased, dark blue eyes gleaming under the fringe of dark lashes.

 _Lapis lazuli eyes_ , he thought wildly as his heart skipped a beat.

The dragon slamming into the ground next to them broke him out of his astonishment. He heard Percy and Jason’s whoops of victory as several monsters scattered.

“Who are you?” Thalia growled.

Alpheus looked up, smirking. Then, he picked up Luke, ignoring the outraged cry, and snapped his fingers. The Mist wrapped around each demigod, pulling them away from the scene.

* * *

“Hazel!” Nico cried, rushing forward to embrace his sister. “You’re safe.”

The girl was pacing impatiently in a large atrium. The entire place was surreal and quiet, almost peaceful—in contrast to the chaos outside. Soft sunlight filtered in through the sky light, warming the wrought ironwork of the stairs and railings.

“What happened?” Piper asked.

Alpheus had set Luke down and he had scrambled away from the god. That touch was familiar and heated against his bare arms, and he hated the memories that those hands brought with them.

“And who is this?” Thalia scowled, glaring at the brunette.

“He’s, uh, I’m not sure who is this... He intercepted me after I brought that family to safely.” Hazel explained. “He told me to wait here while he fetches all of you.”

He looked deniably mortal, a young handsome man with pretty dark blue eyes. But there’s an otherness to him, a sense that stirred Hazel’s magic.

This is no normal mortal man. This is a god.

To her surprise, said god ignored the rest of them, dark eyes seeking out Luke instead. It’s like he doesn’t see anyone but the Son of Hermes.

“Hey, little thief.” Alpheus greeted cheerily.

Luke felt a frown instinctively formed on his lips. Damn him, he looked as attractive as ever. It’s like a propensity for all gods to look beautiful.

He slapped the god in response.

There was a loud, shocked squeak behind him that sounded suspiciously like Percy.

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped.

Alpheus rubbed his reddening cheek, hurt written all over his expression. As if he deserved to be hurt, the bastard.

“Why not?” The god asked. “You stole Zeus’s Master Bolt. You stole Hades’s Helm of Darkness. You stole Kronos’s life—well, kinda. But the point stands. You even stole my heart. I think it’s the perfect nickname for you.”

“What?” Thalia choked.

“ _Whose_ heart?” Annabeth spluttered.

Luke’s cheeks warmed. He’s going to gut this bastard, string him upside down with his intestines and dripped acid into his eyes.

“You don’t get to be this familiar with me.” He scowled. “You lied to me, you lying asshole.”

Alpheus’s wounded eyes softened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by an annoyed Thalia.

“Wait, what’s going on exactly? Who are you?” She questioned.

“I’m Alpheus.” The god smiled, bowing slightly. “I’m here to save you, obviously.”

“And how do you know Luke?” Percy asked, ignoring the glower at his back.

“We’ve met.” Luke cut in sharply before Alpheus could answer the Son of Poseidon. His fierce glare shut everyone up, even though they looked like they were brimming with questions. They were still staring at him, slack-jawed that he had just slapped a god and was not vaporized instantly. Honestly, no other god could be more frightening than Kronos.

“Hermes claimed that Ares couldn’t enter this city.” He said. “So, why are you able to enter?”

Alpheus’s smile faded, and he seemed to stand straighter, taller.

“Well,” He said slowly. “Guess we better move this to a more secluded spot.”


	28. Chapter 28

Apparently, Alpheus had managed to sneak in through a small crack in the defense. As a minor god, he could suppress his godly scent much easier than Ares, and had so far managed to pass through undetected under the noses of the monsters.

For some reason, the monsters were congregating at Hollywood Boulevard. Alpheus wasn’t able to get close enough to find out why. So, obviously they have no choice but to head there, while temporarily seeking refuge in the Bradbury Building for the night.

“Hey,” He heard the door to the rooftop creaked open. “Can I join you?”  
  
“If I say no,” Luke replied, turning around. “You’re still going to stay, right?”

Alpheus smirked at him. He remained stiff as the god walked over, climbing over the ledge to sit down next to him.

“Here, I think you dropped this back then.” Alpheus said, digging out a familiar Celestial Bronze bracelet from his pocket.

_Avon._

“I’m happy,” The god continued, hiding a smile. “That you kept this.”

There’s a dull flush on his cheeks, and his ears felt traitorously warm. He kept his eyes forward, looking out over the abnormally quiet city.

“I’ll be a fool to throw away the only means of defence against those monsters.” He muttered, snatching back the bracelet. He didn’t wear it, tucking it into his jeans pocket. He felt something strange in his chest when he thought about wearing the bracelet around his wrist, bare for everyone to see. For Alpheus to see.

“I’m sorry.” Alpheus abruptly said. “It occurred to me that I have never apologized for my deceit.”

He didn’t want to forgive Alpheus. He’s sick of being toyed by these gods, and it should made him furious, bitter. But the sincerity and genuine regret in Alpheus’s tone stunned him.

“It was the truth that I didn’t know your true identity the first time we met.” Alpheus explained. “I knew you were a demigod, and I have my own suspicions... But it wasn’t why I decided to ask you out... or why I grew to care for you.”

 _This is not happening._ His blunt nails dug into his palms. He wanted the god to _stop talking_ , to tell him that it doesn’t matters anymore. He’s been fucked over so many times why does it matters if another god screwed with his life again?

“You may not want to believe me, Luke.” Alpheus regarded him with solemn blue eyes. In the darkness, they were like starlights, something mystical and bewitching against the night sky. “I know your past with the gods, and I know you distrust me. I don’t blame you for hating the gods. You probably wouldn’t even take a second glance at me if you had known who I am. I’m sorry for lying, for keeping the truth from you.”

“It’s not important anymore.” He swallowed, tearing his gaze away from those dark blue eyes.

“We may die tomorrow.” Alpheus said quietly, raising a hand towards his face, his fingers hovering over his scar, not quite touching. The god smelled of evergreen and ink and water. It left a taste of ashes in his mouth. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

It’s terrible how fragile a human heart was.

Alpheus gave him a small smile, swung his legs over the ledge and landed lightly on his feet.

“Have a good rest.” He murmured. “We’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”

Alpheus’s back looked small from behind, and he wondered how it’s possible, for a god to look so defeated and _human_ towards a mere demigod. Perhaps not all gods are bad. Perhaps some of them were just trying to live normal lives, do their duties, fall in love with mortals, have normal hobbies—humans wearing an immortal skin.

It’s easier not to mull over it, to contemplate that maybe not all gods were entirely cold and conceited of their godly status. That maybe his father genuinely cared for him as his own person, and not because of guilt towards his mother.

It’s going to be hard to change his mind after years of nursing his fury. It’s not the time to be thinking about his worldview and his past life choices, not when another war brew in the horizon.

Maybe, he mused, if he survived the fight tomorrow, he might give Hermes another chance.


	29. Chapter 29

“So, we may all die today.” Percy greeted the following morning.

Luke gave the younger man a tired stare. He hasn’t slept well the previous night, or at all. He can’t deal with bullshit this early in the morning.

“Negative, much?” Thalia chuckled, raising a brow. He went over to her and sat down quietly beside her. She gave him a wary, but small smile. “I got some biscuits here.”

The biscuits tasted like sawdust in his mouth, but he didn’t care, forcing them down his throat. He could see Will’s look of disapproval in his mind and that pushed him to eat. The Son of Apollo was right; he needed to keep up his strength. But knowing his lack of care for his own health does not means he cared about doing something about it.

“Nervous?” Thalia asked.

“Something like that.” He answered after a long pause. He’s not quite sure about feeling anxious. Sure, the thought of seeing Kronos face-to-face in the living world—if he had actually come through—was fucking scary. But dying and death... he can’t seem to bring himself to care. Pre-battle jitters seemed like an old memory now.

“Yeah,” Thalia breathed. “I guess it’s a stupid question. We might run into Kronos.” He tried to hide the instinctive flinch from hearing the name of the Titan King, but she caught that minuscule movement and her eyes hardened. “We’re going to take him down.”

“If he takes over my body again...” He faltered. He knew the only one he could trust with this task was Thalia. “If he... uses my body to hurt all of you again, I want... no, I need you to kill me.”

Her body went taut. For a second, he thought she was going to punch him. Then, the fury seemed to drain out of her in an instant.

“Can you do that?” He asked. “For me?”

“Stop talking.” She barked. When Percy and Annabeth looked over, she quieted down and waved at them. They waved back and returned to their conversation. Her eyes were cold as she glanced up at him. It’s not a wonder that those who held a piece—whether small or big—of his heart possessed blue eyes. It seemed that he does have a type.

“I will. But not... not unless it’s the last resort.” She said, gritting her teeth.

“It’s all I ask for.” He said quietly.

Footsteps as silent as a cat approached him, but he’s trained enough to catch the soft thud of soles against marble, and he’s already turning around before Alpheus could reach him.

“Hey, good morning.” Alpheus said. “Can we talk in private, Luke?”

He frowned at the river god curiously. There’s something _off_ about the god today. He looked pale, sickly and distracted.

“Just for five minutes.” Alpheus mustered up a smile.

He stood up, patting biscuit crumbs from his thighs. He shared a worried glance with Thalia, who was already half-standing. He dropped a hand onto her shoulder, shaking his head.

“I’ll be fine.” He said.

Thalia sat back down, shooting suspicious looks at Alpheus. It was almost hilarious and ironic to see her being so mistrustful of a god, and him reacting the complete opposite. If Thalia wasn’t similar to him in regards to the gods, he might think something had gone wrong in this world; like Zeus abdicating his throne to Hera, or Ares giving up his warlike ways and take to healing instead.

Alpheus was fidgeting and shuffling on his feet when he finally walked up to the god. It was a peculiar sight; for the short period he had known the god, the latter never show any signs of anxiety.

“Are you alright?” He asked curiously.

“Yes.” Alpheus said shortly, spinning around abruptly to stalk off. Puzzled, he followed behind.

* * *

“Are you alright?” He repeated.

They had descended to the ground floor, and the day was particularly sunny, the sharp ray of light turning Alpheus’s hair a pale shade of caramel brown.

“Can I have your sword?” Alpheus asked, ignoring his question. He finally turned around, his complexion still wan.

“Av—” He cut himself off, his cheeks heating up when he nearly said the sword’s name out loud. He’s not sure if Alpheus knew that he had named the sword after his human alias, but if he doesn’t, he sure as hell was not going to tell the river god.

“Can I have it for a second?” Alpheus said urgently.

Eyeing the brunette in confusion, he pulled the bracelet out of his pocket and handed it over. It’s not like he could say no, right? It was a gift from the river god, after all.

“Can I have your hand?” Alpheus took a breath and exhaled slowly, composing himself. He looked up and extended a hand towards Luke, his expression oddly serious. It was starting to get a little uncomfortable, the intense stare from Alpheus.

He hesitantly lifted his left hand towards Alpheus, nearly jumping out of his skin as a warm hand gripped his wrist. A thumb rubbed circles against the heel of his wrist, and suddenly, there’s a sharp tension surrounding the both of them.

“Alpheus, what are you doing?” He asked. Surely the god did not ask to speak in private just to do this, right?

The brunette did not answer, turning Luke’s hand over, so his palm was facing upwards. Alpheus ran his calloused thumb over the blue veins and tendons before sliding Avon over his hand, settling the cold metal around his wrist.

“You should wear it so you could reach for it when you’re in danger.” Alpheus said, head lowered and floppy fringe shadowing his eyes. And then his fingers tightened around Luke’s wrist and he was abruptly pulled forward.

“What?” He yelped in surprise, stumbling into Alpheus’s arms. He went still as auburn hair tickled his nose, the grip tight enough to crush a normal mortal.

“I hope you’ll forgive me.” Alpheus whispered, his voice low and stricken.

He was hit with a sense of déjà vu that he had heard this before, and he felt concern at the shakiness in Alpheus’s voice. Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted in his stomach. It felt like the air in his body had been punched out as wetness gathered at the front of his shirt. Betrayal sank his heart to his belly, and he was too shocked to make any sound.

He tried to push Alpheus away, but there must be poison lining the edge of the blade because he could feel the weakness in his limbs as he staggered. Only Alpheus’s arms held him up, tightening around his waist as his knees buckled. A groan bubbled from his lips as he sagged limply, black spots appearing in his vision.

His head spun as Alpheus released him and scooped him up effortlessly. He couldn’t even resist, stupidly weak and useless.

 _Thalia._ He tried to scream, but his voice seemed to have been stolen from him.

And then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to those who are rooting for alpheus/luke (which i'm surprised at, but really pleased cos this is going to hurts much better), i'm sorry...


	30. Chapter 30

Dazed, in agony, confused, Luke found himself coming out of his unconsciousness slowly. His abdomen hurts when he shifted, his breaths wheezing weakly in his throat. He squinted his eyes, blinking to get rid of the blurriness. He heard the sound of metal rattling somewhere beside his head, and his heart jumped in dread.

A water droplet dripped somewhere in a distance, echoing loudly in the space. His eyes opened wider, more alert now, his mind slipping into fight-or-flight mode. He’s lying on something hard under his back, his hands and ankles chained. The lone spotlight above him left a glare in his vision and he tried to move his head to study his surroundings.

 _A theatre_ , he thinks. He could smell the cold air and leather upholstery.

He heard a groan on his right and strained his neck to see what it was. Something—no, _someone_ huge and towering far above the stage, the head brushing the top of the hanging velvet curtains, was cuffed to the flooring. Another drip seemed to echo in the empty theatre, a smaller shadow on his other side.

Hades was propped up on a throne-like chair, his head lolling against his own shoulder. Gold liquid flow out of his arms, down the tubing and into a weird, whirring machine.

Then, the giant beside him must be Oceanus.

He yanked his hand in panic, and the manacle tightened around his wrist. If he gets out of here, he’s going to fucking disembowel Alpheus. Make the god feels what it felt like to be stabbed in the stomach.

The chains refused to yield, and the more he pulled, the more he could feel the blisters forming around his wrists. Even his magic failed to work on the locks. These manacles were specifically designed to trap a demigod, and even restrained a child of Hermes’ power. If he worked at it constantly, he might be able to loosen the locks over a time period. But as to how long that ‘time period’ is, he’s not sure. It might take hours, or even _days_ —and looking at his situation, he doubted he has days before he’s dead.

 _Oh, great._ He’s going to die in this damn city on a damn stage like he’s some show on display, with only a titan and an Olympian god for company. Out of the three of them, he has the lowest chance in surviving whatever scheme Kronos has cooked up. He might have escaped death once, but a demigod does not have the same invulnerability as a god and a titan.

Approaching footsteps dragged him back to reality. Kronos has arrived, bringing a wintry chill along with him. He stopped directly beside Luke, peering down at him with malicious gold eyes.

His breathing stuttered, his heart nearly stopped in his chest. For a fleeting second, he saw his death flashing past his eyes, a malevolent pressure suffocating him from where he laid.

“Luke Castellan,” Kronos’s borrowed lips curled. “It has been a while.”

He’s wearing an unfamiliar body, a man in his early thirties, with curling dark brown hair till his shoulders, a handsome face that seemed to be edged with a cruelty playing across those pale lips. His skin looked half-cracked, like a broken mirror, blackness behind those torn seams. It stretched from his temple to his chin, one side a grotesque horror, the other a striking beauty.

“Do you see my face?” Kronos asked, leaning down. “I took this body from a god, but even it could not sustain my might.” He ran a slender finger down Luke’s throat, eliciting a shiver of terror. “And yet, _yet_ a mere demigod... a child of _Hermes_... dared to defy and betray me.” His finger continued to travel downwards, stopping above his heart. “You stole a piece of my essence from me. Right _here_.” The finger pressed down painfully, fracturing the bone beneath the skin.

Luke muffled his scream.

“Do not worry,” Kronos continued, smiling coldly. “It won’t be long. You’ll repay your betrayal by giving up your heart to me.”

He turned and left, taking the chill with him.

Luke slumped back down on his back, his heart hammering in his chest. He could feel his whole body trembling uncontrollably, and he bit back a sob. He took a deep breath to compose himself.

It was too much to face Kronos in such a weakened state. No one could understand the utter futileness and impossibility when it comes to Kronos. You could never get used to that bone-deep fear that the Titan King’s power induced in you.

He inhaled sharply, and refocused his energy and strength to dismantling the locks. The terror and panic shivered through his bones, but it was easier to take his mind off his current situation by focusing on the manacles.


	31. Chapter 31

He didn’t know how long time had passed before his next visitor dropped by. It could be days, or even months. All he could register was the increasing pain in his stomach, the wound that Alpheus had gave him and apparently hadn’t heal. He was familiar with the feeling of an infection setting in, the feverish flush taking over his body.

Guess Kronos doesn’t really need him healthy or uninjured to take back the remaining piece of his essence in Luke’s heart. Just alive, even if he’s barely so.

He briefly wondered how everyone was; Thalia, Annabeth, Percy and everyone else... They must have discovered his disappearance by now. He’s not familiar with the others, but he’s familiar with Thalia’s recklessness. He hoped she doesn’t do anything stupid, like charged into a monster stronghold without a plan, but Annabeth’s there, so everything should be fine. Immortal or not, Thalia could still be hurt, and immortality does not mean invincibility.

Tried as he might, he couldn’t ignore Alpheus’s presence beside him.

“What do you want?” He hissed. He’s slightly mortified to hear the hurt in his own voice. This must be karma; to be betrayed by someone he—known? Cared? Dated once? —when he had done the same to his own family and friends.

“To talk sense into you.” Alpheus said calmly. He still looked sickly, bags forming under his eyes. It was strange to see the unhealthy pallor on the river god’s skin. He hadn’t known that gods could be anything other than perfect.

“Sense?” He wanted to laugh, but a shudder of pain shot down his spine, across his abdomen, his _whole body_. “To what? Lie here and _die_ obediently?”

Alpheus flinched, but the resolve in his eyes did not falter. “To come back to our side, Luke.” He leaned forward, caressing his blond hair. “I’m sure Lord Kronos would forgive you for your treachery back then. He can _save_ you, just as long as you pledge your loyalty to him.”

What was it that Hermes had told him about the piece in his soul? That it had latched onto his soul, and trying to get it out might destroy his soul?

“You’re an idiot.” He taunted weakly. “I thought you were a man who has his own morals, a man who refused to bow down to anyone.” _It’s why I like you so much: that confidence, that sureness and awareness of your own entire being, that unexpected kindness._ “You think he’s going to leave you alive after he conquered Olympus? You think he’s going to spare my life? You think you know him better than me, but he has been in _my_ head.”

“You advocated his ideals once.” Alpheus accused. “You betrayed your people, waged war against the gods because you felt that it’s high time someone toppled them from their pedestal! They had their little club up there, while we had fought and protected them and _yet_ —we received no recognition and respect!” He bowed over, digging his nails into the stone beneath Luke. “They even took my Arethusa away from me!” 

“Is this some sort of self-inflated ego speaking?” He spat, suddenly furious. The exhilaration was enough to overpower his sense of pain. “Arethusa _fled_ from you because you’re a repulsive, misogynistic asshole that refuses to take the answer no! You gods are all the same!” And suddenly everything was spilling out, all the rage and bitterness and injustice. “You raped and stole mortals against their permission, neglected and treat your half-mortal children as _trash_ —ignoring them when they needed help, but forcing them to clean up the mess whenever one of you fucks up. Every single one of you treats humanity as insignificant, as if our lives meant nothing at all. You think Kronos is any different from the Olympian gods? He manipulated and used me, he violated my body and forced me against my will.” He hated himself when his voice started to break.

“Is that what you really think of me?” Alpheus asked softly.

Tears clung to his lashes and he took a shuddering breath, trying to calm his racing heart down.

“I never knew you.” He admitted. “I only known the man called Avon.”

He felt a drop of water hit his cheek, and he looked up in surprise. Alpheus was crying.

“You might think it’s a game to me, but it’s not. For all intents and purposes, I never meant to lie to you about my identity. I truly cared for you, Luke.” Alpheus croaked, his shaking hands reaching up towards one of Luke’s hands.

He felt the god’s fingers skimming his bruised wrist, before landing on Avon. His breathing hitched in surprise as Alpheus gently arranged the bracelet against his pulse, hidden directly behind the manacle. He had forgotten all about Avon. He had assumed that Avon would be confiscated after being ‘kidnapped’. It was a surprise Kronos had not noticed the Celestial Bronze ‘jewellery’ on his wrist.

“I hope you change your mind, Luke Castellan.” Alpheus said, his tone forcefully blank, so abrupt that it made Luke recoiled in surprise.

Alpheus’s regretful voice and dark blue eyes remained with him long after the god left. He doesn’t know why he’s still hesitating, still caring so damn much over a stupid river god that had done nothing but lied to him and stabbed him in the goddamn belly.

Gods, maybe he’s getting soft.


	32. Chapter 32

Has he ever imagined how his death would be like when he was a child? Death by starving, shot by an enraged store owner for stealing or killed by a monster on a quest... When he died on Olympus, stabbing himself to stop Kronos from reviving, he thought it’s over.

A second chance in life had been a miracle, but after knowing that his resuscitation had been just another machination in a god’s hands, he knew that his luck was too good to be true.

And now his story ends here, lying on a stone table in the middle of Holly Boulevard, in some obscure theatre, to be a sacrifice to the Titan King’s own revival.

 _Good riddance to this world anyway_ , he thought, closing his eyes. Kronos’s raw power weighed over him like a thick, suffocating blanket.

Black fog separated from Kronos’s borrowed skin, peeling off the flesh and assembling into something solid, yet intangible at the same time. The darkness extended towards him, wrapping around his body and limbs.

Luke’s body spasmed, his mouth dropping open to let out a strangled scream. He could feel the shadows invading his body, gliding under his flesh, violating without mercy. Everything in him was fighting to escape, but Kronos had breached his defences, had rendered him helpless.

“Everything will soon be over.” Kronos assured maliciously, his smile a twisted sight. His body was formless, the cracks on his face widening.

The darkness scraped against the side of Luke’s heart, and agony seized his body. He yanked at the manacles frantically, and when he tried to scream, the smoke rose and stifled his cries.

He was going to die. He was going to die, and the last thing he’s thinking of were wild electric blue eyes and how he had not apologized to Thalia Grace yet, even if its meaningless.

The pain temporarily receded, loosening its hold on him. He gasped out a desperate breath, looking up at Kronos in panic. There was a glint of Celestial Bronze that caught his eye, protruding from the belly of the Titan King.

“How—?” Kronos groaned, staring at the sharp tip jutting out of his stomach. He tried to twist around to glare at a fearful Alpheus, a snarl vibrating in his throat. He let out a roar, and the mass of raw power exploded.

Alpheus was thrown back, slamming into the other end of the theatre. He hit the ground, and a loud shudder ran through the hall.

“I will deal with that traitor later.” Kronos growled, turning his attention back to him.

The shadows tightened around his heart, and he could feel an answering call from within. A fragment glowed, yearning to return to its master. There was a violent tug that blacked out Luke’s consciousness for a moment. Luke poured all his magic into the manacle around his left wrist, and the metal cracked, spider-web fractures feathering across the manacle, before it shattered completely.

He summoned Avon, and the bracelet spun into a blade. He grabbed the hilt and plunged upwards, sinking the tip into Kronos’s chest. The Titan King reacted negatively, ripping the shadows away from Luke’s body to shield himself. He could feel the sudden backlash recoiling back against him, the darkness tearing out of him, along with the single piece of Kronos’s essence.

His soul, already scarred and cracked, ruptured at the brutal force.

Kronos raged and screamed, his borrowed body splitting into two. The single piece faded into the air, golden ichor spilling from his chest. He attempted to coalesce his massive power to save himself, but the damage had been too high.

 _“I WILL KILL YOU!”_ Kronos roared, reaching out desperately towards Luke. **_“LUKE CASTELLAN!”_**

He exploded into smithereens.

* * *

She knew she should never have trusted Alpheus, no matter the weird connection he had with Luke. When Luke haven’t returned after twenty minutes, she had gone searching for him, only to find both him and the river god missing.

Yeah, she hadn’t reacted well to that.

For some odd reason, she had taken responsibility of Luke.

It had been a hard battle fighting through the hoards of monsters. Nine demigods were more than a match for these monsters though, and she found herself racing down a hallway alone.

Annabeth and Percy had told her to go ahead, staying behind to stall the onslaught of monsters. Even as she ran, she could feel the guilt in her chest. She knew that they’d be fine, of course they would.

She burst through the doors, expecting to see... oh, maybe Kronos and Luke duking it out. She didn’t expect to see a giant merman on the stage, a dark-haired man on a throne-like chair, or Luke leaning against a stone table, one hand still gripped within a manacle chained to the top. She rushed forward, nearly tripping over a downed figure in her way.

She strangled the urge to kick Alpheus in the face, ignoring the unconscious god to dash towards Luke.

“You missed the final battle.” Luke grinned weakly as she dropped to her knees beside him. She rolled her eyes and cut through the remaining chains, catching him when his body slid forward.

“What happened?” She demanded. She couldn’t see any major injuries, but Luke was so _cold_. His skin felt like ice, the eyebags under his eyes prominent.

“I won, obviously.” Luke replied, smiling dazedly.

Then, why does it felt like he had lost? She saw his eyes starting to close, and terror slammed through her body. She slapped his cheek lightly to keep him awake, wondering at the sudden fear and dread that he might not wake up again if she allowed him to sleep here.

 _“What happened?”_ She insisted urgently. She could feel his heartbeats as he laid against her chest, slow and steady, but faint.

“Might be dying.” He laughed wanly. “Killed Kronos... Tried to steal my heart... and his essence back...”

She doesn’t understand.

His heart was still intact. It’s still in his chest. Her head was starting to hurt.

“Tell me what to do.” She begged. She doesn’t need to be Nico or Hazel to feel his death coming.

He gave her a gentle smile, and she’s shattered by the realization that this might be the final time she would see him.

No, no, no, this can’t be happening. She can’t lose him again.

“Kronos left behind a piece of his essence the last time he possessed Luke’s body.” A voice startled her out of her panicking. She turned around to see Alpheus limping up to them, and her arms tightened around Luke’s body protectively. “He’s dying, and this time, he might not even be able to enter the Underworld.”

“What?” Thalia choked.

“You can’t go into the Underworld if you no longer have a soul.” Alpheus said pitilessly.

She looked back at Luke’s paling face. He must have known, surely he did. He just didn’t tell any of them, and had probably roped Chiron and Hermes into the secret too. She didn’t react when Alpheus kneeled down on the other side of Luke.

She had been too late. Again.

Alpheus took one of Luke’s hand, closing his eyes.

“What are you doing?” She scowled, glaring at him dangerously.

“Saving his life.” Alpheus answered.

She fell silent, hope rising to the surface. It was rather anticlimactic; there was no magical glowing of light, or even a hymn of healing, just the dull warmth that suddenly emanated from Luke’s skin.

“Tell him I truly like him, alright?” Alpheus smiled.

“What?” Thalia whispered, confused.

And then a god was gone, faded from existence. Despite her plain distrust of the river god, she felt the sense of loss. Like something divine had ripped itself from the world.

As the doors burst open, and Percy and Annabeth came running in, Luke breathed back to life.


	33. Chapter 33

Kronos’s demise (temporarily, anyway) resulted in the breaking of whatever had messed up the Mist. The gods shattered the barrier at the moment of Kronos’s ‘death’, decimating the monsters effortlessly.

Luke woke up with his soul miraculously intact, only to be told that Alpheus had sacrificed his life to save him, as well as making him improbably immortal.

It was just a _feeling_ , that he had woken up... not right. That he was no longer just a mere demigod, but something more. It’s a little bit like he had dipped into the Styx and emerged with the Curse of Achilles. He was not completely sure, until Hermes confirmed his fears when the gods appeared in front of them.

“Lord Hermes,” Thalia bowed clumsily, then her gaze slid behind to the god standing behind his father. “ _Zeus._ ”

Percy stiffened, his hand twitching in an aborted movement towards Riptide. Annabeth clutched Luke’s arm tightly. Thalia unsubtly stepped in front of them.

“Luke!” Hermes breathed, ignoring the tension. He rushed forward and wrapped Luke into an unwelcome embrace. He went still immediately, his eyes wide at the unexpected act of affection.

Saying that this was the first time he has ever gotten a hug from Hermes was no exaggeration. And it was... _awkward_. He has never received a hug from a parental figure, and the times his mother used to hug him were rare—not that he could remember them anymore. He had been so young when he ran from home.

In spite of his discomfort, he fought against his instincts to push the god away. After all, Hermes might be the only thing stopping Zeus from blasting him across the cosmos at the moment.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” Hermes said in relief, looking down at him. His bright, laughing eyes slowly grew dark with concern and alarm as they studied Luke’s face, and it sent a shot of icy fear down his spine.

“Luke Castellan.” Zeus said sternly. The chill in his voice permeated into the air, and suddenly, there’s a pressure pressing down on his heart.

He swallowed back his terror, feeling Hermes closing in on him protectively. He has faced Kronos; even Zeus was a breeze compared to the Titan King. But that does not mean that Zeus was not terrifying in his own way.

“Father,” Hermes said warningly. “You _promised_.”

Luke doesn’t have time to wonder what was it that these two gods have promised about _his_ life. He should feel indignant. His life was not for the gods to bargain.

“I see we have you to thank again regarding Kronos.” Zeus said, his expression a bit like sour grape. Luke wondered if gratitude was even a word that existed in Zeus’s vocabulary. “However,” _There it is_. The compromise. “The escape from your sentence is not excusable.”

He stifled his grimace. Yep, looks like it’s back to the Underworld.

“You’re taking him back?” Annabeth gasped.

Zeus didn’t even look at her.

“No, Hades is... grateful.” He scowled.

A hysterical laugh bubbled in Luke’s throat. Perhaps he’s still out cold and dreaming. Perhaps he’s dead.

He wished.

“But punishment is still necessary.” Zeus continued. “Alpheus’s sacrifice gifted you with immortality. You’ll spent the rest of your life, till the end of time, repenting for your crimes.”

Having his own suspicions does not mean that he wanted them affirmed to his face. Shock sank like a ball of lead, from his throat straight down to his belly.

**_No._ **

He could feel himself panicking, but he refused to break down in front of Zeus. He must have checked out at some point, because he doesn’t remember what Zeus said after that, but he must have at least _looked_ like he was listening, since Zeus didn’t blast him into a thousand tiny pieces before he left.

All the stress and the fear—and _everything_ , really—in the past few weeks must have finally caught up to him, because vertigo suddenly rocked through his body. His head swam and he buckled to his knees, the last thing he heard the startled shouts of his father and friends before his world went dark.


	34. Chapter 34

He almost wished he was dead when he woke up to a familiar sight. The peeling white paint of the ceiling stared back at him. His first reaction was to get up, his body muscles throbbing in protest as he moved. He pushed down the pain and stared down at his arms. Tanned skin, the long stretch of warm beige riddled with pale scars. He unceremoniously ripped the intravenous drip out of his flesh, staring blankly as gold ichor slid down his arm.

Okay, now he really wished he was dead.

“You looked well, Luke.” A voice spoke up.

He was too well-trained to startle, but it was a near thing. He didn’t even hear her enter the room.

“What do you want, Adrestia?” He asked frigidly, stiffening at the sight of the goddess.

She was clad in her usual punk rocker-style clothes, her thick hair braided to the side. She crossed her arms under her bosom, raising a brow at him in curiosity.

“I thought you’d be happier to see me, Luke.” She smiled, no humour and all teeth. “You saved the world again. You defeated Kronos a second time. You even survived and became immortal.”

“You took me out of the Underworld on purpose.” He accused angrily. “You _knew_ about the piece in my soul from the very beginning. You knew that Kronos would make use of the fragment inside me to regain his strength and come into the living world.”

Adrestia’s eyes were hooded and wintry.

“Kronos represents imbalance in this world.” She said calmly. “The Fates have decreed your purpose in life ever since you were born, Luke. You were born to set things right, to defeat Kronos. Kronos is an irregularity, and your death balanced out the scales.”

“So, I’m just a piece in a game. How fucking peachy.” He laughed mockingly. “And now I’m cursed with immortality, punished to live forever on this godforsaken planet. Don’t I at least have a consolation prize for defeating Kronos once again?”

“Immortality is a gift.” Adrestia said, almost puzzled.

“Immortality is a _curse_.” He said sharply. “Why didn’t Zeus just smite me out of existence?”

Adrestia’s lips twitched strangely, and if he had been in the right frame of mind at the moment, he would have notice the sadness in her eyes.

“Because that’s what _you_ want.” She answered honestly. “What sort of punishment would it be if you get what you desire?”

He has nothing to say to that.

* * *

When he spotted Hermes approaching, he couldn’t even muster up his usual anger. He just felt terribly tired.

He doesn’t know what to say to his father.

And then there’s the matter with Alpheus... To be frank, he wanted to hate the guy for betraying him, but he couldn’t fault him for it. He’d be a hypocrite. In the end, Alpheus chose him, and then gave up his immortality and life to save him. He couldn’t hate Alpheus even if he wanted to.

Right now, he doesn't want to think about Alpheus, or the strange gaping hole the loss had left in his chest.

“Hey, Luke.” Hermes smiled hesitantly.

It was such a laughable greeting that nearly caught him off guard. Despite himself, he felt his lips twitched in amusement. After everything that had transpired between them, Hermes’s first words were an awkward ‘hey’?

“Hey...” _Hermes, Lord Hermes, Dad?_ Gods, this was almost painful.

“You’re looking better.” Hermes pointed out.

“Guess this means I have accelerated healing now.” He shrugged. The bruises around his throat had all but faded, as well as the ones around his wrists.

Hermes looked like he wasn’t sure if he should smile at that remark. Luke looked around anxiously as the silence stretched, desperate to get away. This was _excruciating_.

“I’m sorry, Luke.” Hermes said abruptly. “I tried my best to speak to Father... It’s the most he could compromise.”

“You shouldn’t have.” He murmured. “You should have…” _Let me die._ “You didn’t need to.”

“I let you down once.” Hermes said, suddenly fierce. “I stood aside and turned a blind eye. I destroyed May’s life. I could have done something to help you, but I let Kronos hurt you _again_. In the end, all I could do was beg Zeus to spare your life.”

He didn't even realize he had taken a wary step back, until Hermes’s expression softened and the rage seeped from his shoulders. He could feel a lump in his throat, his hands trembling. He had never expected to hear this confession from Hermes, never thought that—with the arrogance and egoism of the gods—Hermes would even lower himself to the likes of _Luke_ and apologized—or cared so much.

“I’m sorry.” He burst out. It was too much, everything piling on his shoulders, trying to crush him with its weight. He hadn’t even had a _minute_ to breathe after all the crap he’s been put through. First, there’s Zeus condemning him to an eternal life of misery. Second, there’s Adrestia, with her usual cryptic words and mystery, pretending to play the kindly patron goddess but was really just another asshole that screwed his life over. Now, here’s Hermes trying to apologizing for indirectly fucking up his entire life. It’s _too much_. Even a thousand years was not enough for him to stay away from these manipulative gods and their shenanigans. “I’m _sorry_.”

To his horror, his eyes started to well up with tears. He raised his hands, wanting to swipe the tears away, but found himself caught in a painful embrace. He tried to control himself, reined himself back in, but it’s like a dam breaking. The tears fell uncontrollably, violent sobs that rocked his body. The influx of emotions flooded in, knocking down his carefully constructed walls.

It was pitiful.

He’s an adult. He no longer needs a father to hold his hand and comfort him. He’s still not comfortable with calling Hermes ‘Dad’ anyway.

But he’s exhausted, both mentally and physically. There’s a bone-deep tiredness that hurts more than physical exhaustion, and he missed the feeling of completion, of safely and rest. It felt like his mind had been torn apart and haphazardly stitched up.

Hermes squeezed his shoulders tightly, looking down at him in concern.

“If you need anything... _anything_ at all...” Hermes let the words lingered in the air.

He swallowed, forcing himself to meet his father’s gaze. “I’ll call.”

Hermes’s eyes softened and he buried his fingers in Luke’s hair, pushing the latter’s head against his shoulder.

Luke closed his eyes, let himself latched onto his father’s shirt and inwardly counted down in his head, until his breathing become steady. Just for a while, perhaps, he could let his guard down around Hermes.

He might even seriously consider Hermes’s offer. After all, he couldn't spend an eternity being pissed at his father. 


	35. Chapter 35

He doesn’t know how long he had been preparing to leave, but he had made up his mind. Thalia had gone back to Artemis and the Hunters, Percy and Annabeth were heading to New Rome for university, and Frank and Hazel were returning to Camp Jupiter. He’s not close to Nico, and frankly, that kid’s glares of mistrust were starting to get on his nerves. He’s hesitant to talk to Jason, not because he’s Thalia’s brother, but because—okay, maybe that’s the reason. Piper and Leo were friendly, but he doesn’t know them.

The camp was different. There were still familiar faces around: Will, Clarisse, Connor, Katie, Chris—who was doing well, this he was glad of—and many others. But they watched him with caution, not quite sure how to deal with him.

And, and he was expecting it.

He deserved their hatred and distrust, but it hurts. It used to feel like home, but now he felt like a stranger. It’s his own fault, and he has no one to blame.

Now with his new immortality status, he felt even more alone, detached from these people that would one day grow old and die. Even though demigods have a longer lifespan than mortals—and that is if they do not die on a quest, or are killed by a monster or a god—they would still die one day, unlike him, forever young and eternal. Zeus knew what he was doing when he allowed Luke to keep his immortality.

So, that’s why he didn’t tell anyone his plans to leave, except for Chiron. The centaur had halfheartedly tried to persuade him to stay, but he must have known that it’s a lost cause the moment Luke stepped into his office.

He stared at his miserable belongings for a moment, before heaving a sigh and stuffing them into his backpack. Outside his window, the sun was slowly setting over the horizon. Once the sun vanished from the sky, he’d leave.

Quietly, as if he was never here. Perhaps it’s the best he could do.

His reverie was broken when his door was abruptly slammed open, nearly flying off the hinges.

“What are you doing?!” Connor demanded, hands tight over his hips. He glanced at the backpack on Luke’s bed and his eyes darkened. His lips pursed tightly, white lines against his complexion. “Are you just going to leave without a word?”

He remained silent.

“Well?” Connor questioned angrily. It was a rare event whenever one of the Stoll brothers got angry, but they looked remarkably like Hermes whenever someone set them off. Like Luke, they have Hermes’s eyes, and it’s like looking into a storm, the way it would grow cold and hard.

“Yes.” He said quietly.

Connor’s bottom lip quivered. For a moment, Luke feared that he’d start crying—which would be a horrible sight. The Stoll brothers were the life of the party, the heart of their cabin. He has never seen them upset, and if they have ever cried, it’s a privilege they only shared with each other. But Connor managed to compose himself, inhaling sharply.

“You don’t have to leave.” Connor said, uncharacteristically meek. “You just got back. And—And Zeus forgave you, right? You can stay, can’t you? I know I’ve been avoiding you since you’re back, but I just need time, that’s all! You didn’t have to go away!” He took a stuttering breath, clenching his fists at his sides. “If you need forgiveness, I will give it to you! I forgive you!”

Luke’s breathing caught in his throat, his heart tripping over a beat. He’s not going to cry, but it’s close thing. Gods, when did he turned into such a crybaby?

“I can’t stay here anymore.” He admitted, soft and cautious in a way that it broke Connor’s heart.

Connor rubbed at his eyes fiercely. He walked right up to his older half-brother and hugged him, not expecting the startled flinch. Luke’s body quaked under his arms and it hurts Connor.

Luke might not be Travis, as dear and beloved in his heart, but he was still family.

“You better not be trying to steal my wallet.” Luke warned, his voice shaking slightly despite the joking tone.

Connor chuckled wetly, releasing him reluctantly. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a pen and went to Luke’s desk. He scribbled quickly onto a torn piece of paper from a magazine.

“If you’re not going to stay, you better stay in contact.” He said stubbornly, shoving the piece of paper with Travis’s email address on it. When he noticed Luke opening his mouth, to protest or something, he quickly interjected. “I don’t care if you have no phone on you or whatever. I’m sure there’s some internet cafes wherever you go. You can spare like, five minutes to send an email to us.”

Luke stared at the piece of paper uncertainly.

“Promise me!” Connor said insistently. “I’m not expecting an email every day. Maybe once a month or something, so I know you’re safe.”

For a moment, Luke’s resolve faltered. He wanted to give in and stay. He had missed Connor and Travis and the rest of the Hermes kids so much. But most of them had grown up, and even Travis was attending college now. It’s different now, and he’s not blind to the changes around the camp. They no longer need him, and his presence was not wanted.

He was a reminder of all the loss and pain this camp had suffered.

“Yeah...” He swallowed, tears burning at the back of his throat. “Okay.”

He was doing the right thing, for this camp, for himself. People would soon forget him, and things would go back to normal before his abrupt arrival had shattered the peace.

Everything would be better once he's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was originally supposed to be a confrontation between hazel and luke, but connor just barged right in and took the keyboard from me, so here you have it, some light brotherly-bonding with connor stoll.


	36. Chapter 36

Six months later, Luke was traipsing across the world with nothing but a trusty van and the barest minimum possessions in his bag. At the moment, he’s somewhere in Alaska, enjoying the wintry chill.

He survived with odd jobs along the way, or falling back to his old habit of slipping wallets out of some snobbish-looking mortal whose shoes alone could buy him a flat in San Francisco. But it was freeing, with an entire world at his feet. It felt a little like dominion, conquering each city one at a time. There’s no one to bother him, or a quest to risk his life on. There were times it felt unbearably lonely, times he wanted to stay curled up under his blankets forever at the back of his van, but then he met Maia.

“Maia!” He called out, trudging back towards his van.  

A large grey husky loped over towards him, letting out a loud, sharp bark in excitement. He felt a reluctant grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

She’s a puppy when he found her, a couple of weeks after he left Camp Half-Blood. She had been starving, half-frozen and dying, and he had sympathized and saved the puppy, and found himself a companion when she recovered and refused to leave. Even when he found her a foster family, she followed after his van, making him her new home. Now months later, she's a completely different dog than the one that he had found half-buried in the snow. 

She’s a breath of fresh air, refusing to let him wallow in his darkness.

It’s a strange sight; an immortal and his dog.

But he has gotten used to her and even named her after his grandmother. The first time he ran into Hermes after leaving Camp Half-Blood, Hermes had been embarrassingly overjoyed after meeting Maia. At least Hermes had not gotten offended by him naming a dog after his mother.

Maia scampered into the back of the van, turning two rounds before settling into her nest in the corner of the vehicle. He slammed the doors shut and made his way to the front. He has been hoping to explore Europe. It’s going to be a long way, but he has all the time in the world now anyway.

He settled down in his seat, pulling off his gloves. He rubbed his hands vigorously, patting his warmed palms against his flushed cheeks. Maybe it’s time to head to a warmer city. He missed the balmy warmth and the cool breeze in Spring.  

There was a sharp knock against his window, startling him slightly. He looked over to see a head of dark hair outside his van. He squinted to see the person’s face, but it was hard to make out the features through the condensed window. A spike of cold slid down his spine, and he gnawed at his bottom lip in worry.

Making sure that Avon was safely secured around his wrist, he leaned over the passenger seat to scroll the window down.

“Hey,” Thalia greeted brusquely. “Let me in, yeah? It’s freaking cold out here.”

He stared blankly at her in response.

She rolled her eyes and stuck her hand into the van, unlocking the door. He quickly recoiled back as she opened the door and hopped in.

_What the Hades._

“What are you doing here?” He exclaimed. Maia poked her head through the little hole behind the driver seat and glanced at Thalia curiously. She sniffed the offered hand, pressing her wet snout against the fingers.

Thalia scratched her under the ear in delight, cooing as if she’s a baby. Maia barked in approval and retreated from the hole. He glared at the empty hole in irritation, a little pissed at the traitorous _mutt_.

“What are you doing here?” He repeated.

Thalia gave him a wide-eyed stare of innocence. Her spiky dark hair had grown out, curling around her chin, and her electric blue eyes were as bright as ever.

“I have left the Hunters.” She said bluntly.

“I don’t...” He spluttered. _“Why?”_

She was determinedly staring ahead, refusing to look at him. He squashed the urge to shake her. Instead, he patiently waited her out. When it comes to Thalia, one has to learn patience and not push her to talk.

“I realized I still have attachments in this world.” She finally said. “I found my brother. I got...” She faltered, before shaking her head and laughing awkwardly. “Anyway, Lady Artemis got sick of my moping and released me from my vows. She said she doesn’t want a Hunter who couldn’t even keep to her oath.”

He has a feeling that she’s hiding a lot more things than what she’s saying.

“Then, your immortality...” He trailed off. If Thalia had been released from her vows, then she was no longer granted the gift of immortality from Artemis.

“Yeah, I’m going to grow older.” She shrugged. “But it’s not like I want it or anything. I joined the Hunters in the first place because I wanted to avoid the Great Prophecy.”

 _What a twist of irony_ , he thought. Thalia would grow old one day, while he’d remain unchanging.

“Why are you here?” He asked softly.

Thalia froze, and abruptly fell silent.

“Instead of returning to Camp Half-Blood to Jason, or head to New Rome, where Percy and Annabeth are, what are you doing here?” He continued. “You’re no longer a Hunter. You can return to a normal life, get your GED and go to college or something.” His fingers tightened around the wheel. “I’m not your responsibility. Go home, Thalia.”

“It’s not like that!” She snapped, suddenly angry. He ignored the crackle arching across her skin, the instantaneous smell of ozone in the confines of the van.

“ _Go home_.” He repeated, his voice tight.

“Fuck off.” She growled, leaning back in her seat stubbornly. “And start driving, Luke.”

He exhaled sharply in exasperation.

She looked up abruptly, her stormy eyes hard and resolved. She unfolded her arms, her lips a solemn line across her face.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She said. “I’m coming with you, whether you like it or not. You’re not my responsibility, nor am I yours.” She took a calming breath. “It’s not like I have any reasons to be here. You’re right though... I could be back at Camp Half-Blood with Jason, or New Rome with Annabeth and Percy. But I’m not, because we’re the same—you and I. We’re both out of time, and they have grown up without us. Jason have his own life and friends and he doesn’t need a sister hovering around all the time.” Her gaze flitted away, staring out at the snowy landscape. “Maybe I’m here because I’m your friend.”

Something shuddered in his chest. His knuckles whitened, and he’s going to leave indents in his wheel if he doesn’t let go soon.

“You need to find a better friend then.” He croaked, looking away.

“You are my best friend.” She said quietly, unbearably gentle.  

There’s a lump in his throat, like a lead ball or something, uncomfortably tight. He couldn’t swallow and it shouldn’t hurt this much.

“You know,” She said, her hand curling under his. “I always wanted to visit the Machu Picchu and catch the sunset at the top.”

He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand, starting the engine. The van rumbled smoothly around them.

“Well,” He tried a hopeful smile. “Then what are we waiting for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end.


End file.
